Letters from Moira
by bloodmilkku
Summary: My young Master hasn't been himself since experiencing so much death so close. Now, we have quite a nuisance to be dealt with, one which I'm finding very troublesome. But do not worry, I will still lead the young Lord to his finale gracefully. Hush my Lord, you won't feel a thing while I devour that sumptuous soul of yours. [Parallel manga/anime 1 & 2, lots of demon!Sebastian]
1. Chapter 1

Without my cool, distant stare, Ciel's tiny little mouth would refuse to open for the delicious meal I had prepared. Without my presence, his reflective eyes would darken, turn murky, and that same mouth would turn down, and his small hands would clasp together, and I would hear his miniscule lungs heave a sigh that my dear young Master should never heave. Our relationship had changed, he was more dependant on me than ever before now that, well….

"Sebastian." Oh, that voice, the authority of a lion in his kitten-like mewl.

"Yes, young Master?" I anticipated a haughty reply, a ridiculous request which I would carry out hastily for that delectable soul of his. I needed that soul, yearned for it in a way I hadn't yearned for anything in too many years that I cared to remember. It was intoxicating, that soul of his. I could almost taste him on my tongue.

"Bring dessert to my study, I'm done." I watched him rise, only half of the supper I had worked so hard on eaten. I dared not frown at the lack of respect, though it would have amused me greatly to tease him about how his lack of height (adorably miniscule as he was) might possibly be correlated to his refusal to eat his dinner and skip directly to dessert.

"Yes, my Lord," I said. "Tonight I'll be serving-"

"I don't care," my Master interrupted. "Just bring it." I smiled to myself, the scent of a determined soul, musky and poignant, wafted towards me.

"Yes, excuse me," I bowed. "I'll bring it up to you shortly." My Master brushed past me, a delicious scent emanating from deep within him. It was pleasing, it was arousing. I smiled, but he didn't notice as he was already out of the dining room. Back to business.

The half-eaten dinner was still spread across the table, still immaculate as ever. But now I had to clean it up, which, honestly, I wasn't looking forward to. "Baldroy! Mei-Rin! Finnian!" I would have them clean this up, I had dessert to attend to. Baldroy was first to enter the dining room, the distinct smell of charcoal clinging to him. Oh, Baldroy, what was I supposed to do with you? I could hear the scrambling of the rest of my staff, but I left it to Baldroy to inform the others. "All you need to do tonight," I started, making sure he understood the concept of 'all,' "is clean up. I have dessert under control. The young Master will be taking it in his study. And with the leftovers? Eat them if you want." I wasn't in the mood of waiting for his reply, the idiosyncrasies of my staff had been going on too long for me to care about them. And for the most part, they all had learned to solve their problems themselves. After the death of, well, never mind. Thankfully, my staff had learned a few things through all these weeks.

The smell of the wild berry tart in the oven was soothing. Despite my lack of literal taste, I was tempted to take a finger-full as I pulled the hot tin out of the oven. The crust was perfectly golden, the syrup from the berries saucy but thickening quickly. It was perfect. I set it on the countertop as I readied the plates, knives, other serving utensils, and various other trinkets. The strainer for the tea, the tongs, the sugar bowl. I choose the blue and white Mason's Willow set, it seemed soothing enough for such a heavy dessert at this hour.

I readied the cart, placing everything neatly where I wanted. Of course, it had to be perfect, but it didn't take me long to organize. It was an obsession really, the perfection I sought out in everything. But, what else could I do? I was parading around as a manservant to a mere child, a thirteen-year-old little boy. Even after years, I couldn't be subdued with just the whims of a child. I knew I was subverting the inevitable, instinctual frenzy that would be the devouring of my Master's soul by occupying my mind with these tedious tasks. But what was I to do? I could easily break the contract, enjoy his soul regardless, but it was a strange predicament I was in. Not only did I want the perfect soul, but I wasn't exactly ready to leave the side of my young Master. He was…interesting, especially during these tumultuous times. He had many things to worry about now, as I did. This waiting was taking a toll on my constitution. I am no saint, and I am not ashamed that I have had many an indecent thought of my Master and I, but I am more ashamed that these thoughts were getting harder and harder to control. It had always been a constant battle, but being within inches of the intoxicating smell of the soul of my prey, well, it was hard to resist. I was torn between wanting that perfect purity he held, the pureness of suffering, and complete corruption. Often I wondered how his soul would taste if I ruined him. What little inflections of flavor I could sprinkle onto him. But, there was no time for my impure thoughts now, I had a tart to serve.

I tried to enjoy the sound of the china clinking against the metal cart, against the flatware, against itself. I tried to find a little hint of joy in my work, but as my mind constantly liked to remind me, I was employed by a little boy, which I had very disturbing (well, to others) thoughts about, with a house-full of idiots. Pessimistic? Why no, just realism I assure you. But let me reassure you that I do not hate my job. No, I have my qualms, but if you take a summary of my week, I thoroughly enjoy myself. I am quite the actor, and my protective nature is perfect for the strange life of the Earl of Phantomhive. It is fitting that I am his butler.

The thick doors to the study greeted me suddenly. I had almost passed them. The polished wood was pleasing to look at, the ornate carved idols, flowers, embellishments and such always pleased me. They had obviously taken a lot of work, a lot of time to make something someone once thought was perfection. Ah, that struggle for perfection! No time to settle my thoughts on that. I knocked lightly and let myself in. "Excuse me, young master" I smiled. "I've brought you a wild-berry tart for dessert, filled with-"

"Sebastian, please." I was dismissed with a wave of my Master's hand, quite a lovely hand.

"Forgive me." I couldn't help but smirk. Master has been quite irritable lately. I couldn't blame him with the recent events, however he refused to talk about it. Sometimes I worried about his internalizations of his problems. Sometimes I wished he had someone else to talk to. However, his confinements in me have been more and more frequent, even if unintentional or almost wordless. He didn't have to say much, he never did, but what he would say would almost always make my desire for him tangible. I wondered if he could feel it.

He was silent as I placed his slice of tart in front of him. I poured him his tea; he took it selfishly but said nothing. His lips curled around the rim of the cup. Pink against white and blue. I pretended not to notice by turning my attention to the lack of light in the room. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, the bursting oranges and reds were fading quickly to my Master's favorite color, the deep blue of a day half finished, a night half started, I could go on, but I digress.

"Oh dear, wouldn't you like a bit more light in here? It's getting dark already." I took his silence as an affirmation, but I had started to light the candles even before I had asked. I could tell he was watching me. What could he possibly want? The silence continued. The last candle lit, I stood in front of him once again. "Do you need anything young Master?" I smiled, curious about the deepening scowl on my Master's face. "Anything at all?"

He scoffed, but didn't answer, picking up his tea again as the rest of his dessert was already gone. I raised an eyebrow, but he didn't look at me. I waited as he sipped his tea, relishing the way the corners of his mouth carefully nestled the edge of the cup between them. The smooth contours of his pale hands. The dark lashes that almost caressed his cheeks. The sharp scent of resentment and a thirst for vengeance in the depths of his soul. "Goodness my Lord, aren't we in a stink tonight." He scoffed again. I didn't have time for his games however, there was still a lot of work to be done around the manor. If he didn't want anything…. "Well, young Master, if you are finished here, I'll let you to your work." He hesitated. Fly caught in web? Yes, indeed.

"Draw me a bath." Was that what all this fuss was about? How childish.

"As you wish." Ciel picked up the book he seemed to have been reading and opened it. I took it as a hint to leave, but I was sure there was a tinge of red on his face. It was perplexing, but as a faint peppery sweetness greeted me, I understood. The exciting scent of puberty. Oh, if only my young Master had a few more friends. My job was going to get a lot more complicated. However, I had my orders.

Finding Mei-Rin on my way back to the kitchen, I instructed her to clean the dishes for me while I went back to attend to my Master. She stuttered as she always did, but was much less clumsy than she had been only a few months ago. It was reassuring, almost.

I drew Ciel's bath quickly, contemplating the perfect water temperature for such a cool night. It was already October, the leaves had already turned and fallen. London was empty, and toy sales were rather slow. Everything was slowing down, and with only months to my Master's birthday, I couldn't help but wonder if he'd want to celebrate it, if he lived that long. I entertained the thought a moment. Was is fathomable to complete our contract in that little amount of time? Doubtful, with the weather soon going to turn for the worst. It would be a slow investigation. Everything would be slow. I sighed.

The faucet sputtered as I turned it off, its last gurgle of hot water rushing out in short spurts. Hmm, well. I went to fetch Ciel. He was still in the study, possibly reading, but as soon as I opened the door he put the book down. What could be so interesting? Unfortunately, my Master was not one to read for pleasure; he didn't have the patience. "Your bath is ready, my Lord." I held the door open as he walked past me. Again, a multitude of scents surrounded me. I sighed to myself, trying to settle down before my thoughts tried to creep out of my hands than to release some kind of frustration. I didn't want to lose myself, though the thought was most alluring.

Ciel's voice quickly rerouted my thoughts. "Are you coming?" He was annoyed, a kind of childish annoyance. I could hear it in his voice that he had had some dialogue with himself while I was gone. I could also hear that it hadn't ended well, and he was angry with himself and transferring it to me. Fodder for teasing later no doubt.

"Of course."

"Then hurry up."

I followed him silently, steeling myself for whatever may come ahead. I had a succinct feeling that my dear Master had a game in mind, and that I was not going to be amused. My feelings were usually correct, and now that I was becoming more and more sure Ciel was going to toy with me, the more irritated I became at the thought of bathing the boy in the first place. Surely, he was old enough to bathe on his own. Regardless, I opened the bathroom door for him, a cloud of steam billowing out sluggishly. He walked in, I closed the door behind me. I removed my tailcoat and gloves then proceeded to roll up my sleeves. My Master had already set his shoes by the door, and was failing miserably at untying the knot around his neck. His favorite blue ribbon. "Let me," I cooed, coming up close to him. I let myself take in the smell of him. "My, my young Master. What would you do without me," I teased as I removed the ribbon from around his neck. I untied his eye patch next, revealing the mark I took so much care to craft into his eye. "You can't even untie a simple knot." Smile.

Ciel avoided my gaze, not interested in a retort to my playful teasing. He frowned, and stood completely still. He had been like this for almost a month now, I should not be so surprised, but even his lack of self-righteousness burdened me. I didn't want him to be like this, almost lifeless, a listless doll. My Master was not going to sit on a shelf. He knew what he needed to do, but I wasn't sure if he was willing to do it. I feared he wanted to keep that soul of his.

I removed his jacket silently, folding it up and placing it on the stool beside the tub. I took to the task of unbuttoning his blouse. The crisp white fabric was still soft against my fingers. The buttons smooth and cool to the touch. However, I much more enjoyed the flushed skin beneath the fabric, the collarbones I was slowly exposing, the soft white flesh tinged pink with what I assumed was heat. And then, the branding scar still pink and fresh-looking despite its years.

My fingers brushed up against the supple flesh of my Master's chest. He shuddered. Yes, he was so soft and receiving. I could do terrible things to that flesh, but I wasn't alone in my thoughts, obvious by the various raised scars across his body. The blouse joined the blazer on the stool, and I knelt so that I could remove his pants.

My Master was no prude, but as I slid his pants down to his ankles, sneaking in a sweet caress of his thigh, he started to shake. I did not look up to him, deciding to torture his psyche a bit more even though I was looking at his socks and not a more intimate area. He seemed distracted, because as I lifted his foot to remove his sock, he almost toppled over, grasping my shoulders quickly, but his little hands were tense. "Please be careful my Lord," I mentioned, removing his other sock. "I wouldn't want you to injure yourself." I smiled at him now as I stood. He looked away, a pout on his tender lips.

"Idiot," he mumbled. He turned away from me and clamored into the tub. I enjoyed the movements of this shoulder blades as he used his arms as braces to step over the edge of the tub. So feline. I busied myself with finding a washcloth and a particularly fragrant soap while my Master relaxed.

I was searching for the shampoo when Ciel finally decided to initiate a conversation with me. I had felt it trembling on his lips for almost two days. "Do you remember the letter I got from Lau a few days ago?"

"Of course my Lord, you were quite furious about its contents."

I had yet to turn around, but I heard Ciel reposition himself. "Yes, well, I've been thinking."

"Very hard I'm sure."

"I finally have a plan to get my revenge."

Now this perked my interest. Revenge? So my little Master had been serious about the claims he had made in a fit of rage only two days ago? Delicious. "Have you now, my Lord. And what would these plans entail?" I turned to look at him, shampoo in the crook of my arm. For a moment, he looked back at me blankly, almost like he had lost himself in a thought. I wondered what was going on in that mind of his, what he could possibly be thinking. I placed myself at the side of the tub, the vacant look on my Master's face fading. For almost a month now he had been vacant. I was ready for him to come back. I began to lather the washcloth after having put the shampoo by the foot of the tub. It had only been a few seconds that Ciel had stopped mid-thought, but I couldn't help but feel a bit concerned. The feeling of the soft cloth against his skin seemed to pull him back.

"Oh, it's surprisingly simple." He continued like nothing had happened. "But, I have a few more plans to finish. But don't worry," my young Master turned his mischievous eyes on me now. "I won't leave you to wait too long." The smirk on his lips reaffirmed my suspicions. My young Master had had a dialogue with himself while I had been gone, and it had not ended well at all. But I was interested in this plan of his, and I only hoped it wouldn't end up being more of an inconvenience to me than him.

"Of course sir," I said, bringing my lips up to his ear. "But please try to keep yourself out of trouble." I reached around to scrub his shoulder. Ciel reached up to stop me, grabbing the cloth from my hand.

"I attract trouble." My young Master began to wash himself. And what an interesting statement; how true it was!

Half my tasks then completed, I picked up the bottle by my foot. I squeezed an ample amount of shampoo onto my hands and began to massage it slowly into Ciel's hair. His habitual tensing of his shoulders did not surprise me. I watched the brand on his back twist as his muscle relaxed. What a shame, to tarnish his perfect skin.

Ciel's hair was very much like silk between my fingers, an unnatural smoothness compared to his hair when dry. Humans; I didn't understand the concept of shampoo honestly. I could have scoffed at the irony of that thought. Considering my employment, I felt the need to retract the thought. And then I heard a sound, a soft hum almost, a contented sigh. I leaned closer to my young Lord, only to find him thoroughly enjoying the massage I was giving his scalp. I was torn about bringing his attention to it. The soft purr that was escaping those barely parted lips was almost too much to stand, but I wanted to hear it. He sounded like a contented kitten, a purr so soft I almost thought he was.

"Are you enjoying this, my Lord?" I smiled beside myself. But Ciel's affirmation surprised me. Admitting to liking physical contact? What had gotten into my Master? But I smiled again, those thoughts I had wished to keep quite surfacing quickly. I leaned back down to whisper in his ear, "do you wish for me to continue?" I wanted to wait for an answer, but something caught my eye. The pulsing of the vein in Ciel's neck intrigued me. Why I'm not sure, but in hindsight bloodlust is surely a trait of mine. I could almost smell the blood rushing there, his flushed skin dilating the vein, bringing it closer to the surface. I wanted to taste it, I was so close.

I think Ciel only hummed in reply. I had forgotten myself. My mouth had already trailed down to the crook of his neck, but I didn't have time to enjoy it as Ciel lurched forward frantically. "What do you think you are doing?"

For a moment, I wasn't sure what I wanted to say. "Forgive me, my Lord. It was an honest accident. I was merely leaning over so that I may reposition my stool closer to the tub, my arms were getting a bit sore. I apologize." I bowed my head for effect, but the spell was broken. Ciel was now on edge.

He didn't seem to believe my reasoning, but as he believed that I would never lie to him, he seemed to let it go. I, of course, was not lying. Much. "Rinse my hair," he snapped. "We're done here."

"As you wish."

I rinsed him, dried him, and dressed him for bed as quickly as I could. I could still feel his soft skin on my lips, just barely, and it was maddening to think about. But I didn't touch him again, very alert to where I was every second. It would be such a waste if my little Master turned out to be afraid of me, afraid of some strange advances from a perverted butler. I smiled as I pulled the sheets up for Ciel, tucking him in softly without a word.

"What are you smiling about," was his question, dripping with suspicion.

"Oh nothing much young Master. I am just wondering about this grand scheme of yours." That was truth, among other things. Ciel gave me a look, proof that he didn't believe me, but he didn't question me further. I did not let my smile fade. "Goodnight, my Lord."

"Goodnight Sebastian."


	2. Chapter 2

Oh, what a chore. Once again my Master refused to wake upon my first calling. It was much harder to wake him recently; he was determined to sleep until I felt it was my duty to pull him out of his slumber by the nape of his neck. Figuratively, of course. But it was almost noon now, and there was no more time for my Master to sleep. It was time to wake up. "Young Master," I said loudly. "It is surely time for you to get up. There are pressing appointments today, and I regret to inform you that you've slept most of the day away." The little Master muttered a string of syllables but did not move. Oh dear, the tea was going to get cold. I poured him a cup regardless, the faint scent of rose hips and lemon drifting from the steam. "For your breakfast today I have prepared a-"

"Just give me something sweet," my Master spoke. Of course the thought of sweet foods would wake him; sweets were nearly his own obsession. The whims of children, how fickle.

"Of course." If he had bothered to listen, my Master would have known I had prepared crepes as his breakfast. I hoped they would be pleasing, but I wasn't sure if he had ever had the French confection before. I don't mean to say I have never made them for my Master, he just never ate them. But the strawberries seemed to entice him, and he ate with no qualms. "On the schedule today," I continued while making my way to the armoire for Master's outfit. "You have an appointment with your Aunt Middleford around two, and then your violin tutor has cancelled your lesson as she is feeling quite ill." I had picked a deep maroon ensemble with a golden bow and strode over to my Master, continuing, "I can be a suitable replacement, if you wish." I grinned, but the young Lord was not looking at me, picking the last slices of strawberry from his plate. "And finally, since it is a Friday, French lessons with your tutor Mrs. Charboneise will be from four to five."

I watched as the young Master set down his fork, raising an eyebrow at me, mischievously. "Is that all?" At first I wasn't sure what he was hinting at. The young Master tilted his head, a faint smirk on his lips.

I smiled as well. "If you are so impatient as to tell me, I will surely ask. Just what are these plans of revenge you have?"

He laughed, partly. It was a strange kind of chuckle, similar to laughing at a joke that wasn't amusing; I didn't understand its purpose. "Like I said, I won't leave you to wait." He paused, his eyes darkening. "Too long."

I tilted my head, perplexed. "Whatever do you mean?" My young Master did not answer me. He stared at the clothes I had laid out on the bed before him, seeming to take a keen interest in the golden cravat I had chosen. The corners of his mouth progressively turned down, and then something seemed to dawn on him.

"Did you say Middleford?"

"Yes, sir." I watched as distress radiated from my poor Master. He leaned back onto his pillows, placing his plate of half-eaten crepes back on the bedside table. I frowned, not only because - once again - he had not finished a meal, but the look of defeat in his tired eyes aged him ten years. I knew this appointment with his aunt would be distressing for him, but I assumed I had given him ample time to not only grieve, but get matters sorted. However, given the most recent events coupled with the thoughts he shared with me during the past few weeks, I should have known better than to crush my young Master so. Yet, Lady Middleford was determined to see her dear cousin. I had been putting off their meeting for days without telling him. "Lady Middleford was most…persistent in arranging a meeting with you."

"And you didn't tell me until now?" His words were dry. Oh, dear Master, don't get like this now.

"Well, my Lord, I knew you'd be rather upset about being reminded of…recent events. Besides, you'd probably hide in your room if I told you too far in advance. How disgraceful would that be?" I chuckled.

"You don't have the right," my Master spoke, voice low. He had turned away from me to look out the window, the noontime sun bright between the clouds. "You didn't…."

"Sir?"

"You don't have the right!" My young Master was understandably upset. I sighed to myself. I knew this was going to happen, and I hoped he'd let it out quickly. I had afternoon tea to prepare. "You can't just mess around with my appointments, Sebastian!" He was looking at me now, eyes furious. I could smell the heat seething inside him. I held back a smile. "You honestly cannot expect me to want to talk to her now! I'm not," he paused, the anger already dissipating, but leaving the sentence unfinished.

"I'm sorry sir, but it's been over a month. I think you need to be ready, or at least put on the airs that you are."

"If I'm not mistaken, it sounds like you're trying to rush me, Sebastian. Do you have a plan in mind?" He wasn't interested in any plan I had, he was testing me.

"Of course not sir, I'm just thinking of your reputation. London would teem with rumors if you continued to put off this meeting with your aunt."

"I know."

"Good, my Lord. Would you like to get dressed now?" My young Master turned away from me again. I waited patiently. I assumed he had to recover himself. A month _had _been long enough, I had smelled it. The bitter scent of regret was finally ebbing, almost gone, and even though my Master was freshly hurt, the regret barely lingered. He was ready and denying it, or, he didn't know it himself. He was only a child after all, it would have been a bit mature for him to realize and differentiate the emotions he was feeling. Even for him. My young Master was strong, but he was still far from mature.

The young Lord turned back to me, a stoic expression gracing his face. "Yes, I would like to get dressed." I had anticipated such a reply and knelt while he swung his thin legs over the edge of the bed. I dared not hesitate as I unbuttoned his nightshirt, my young Master's voice of disapproval and suspicion still ringing in my ears from last night. I got him dressed quickly; I did not pay any noticeable attention to the tiny wrists of his, or the small shoulders which I knew carried far too much weight. I did not think of the tender flesh of his neck as I tied the golden cravat around it, a golden bow for a perfect present. I did not think of the blood that rushed there, and I did not notice how my Master's small ankles looked like they would snap easily if I so pleased it. I slipped on Ciel's shoes silently, desire burning through me. No, I did not notice.

"Do you think you can handle this visit?" I asked, standing up. I tried to calm myself. I wasn't sure if asking such a question was appropriate, but I wasn't too sure what to make of our own relationship anymore anyway. Ciel had his cup of tea up to those lips of his. He held it there, looked at me, and pulled the cup away.

"I will have to," he said in a whisper. His lips trembled slightly, but the stern look of his uncovered eye was proof of his resilience.

"I am very proud of you, young Master."

He scoffed, taking a sip of his tea. "Isn't that a sin?" He smirked. "Or do sins not matter where you come from?"

Oh, dear Ciel, always the one for questions about my person. But I was more relieved that he was making a joke at all, even a thinly veiled one. "Of course they matter, sir," I started, unsure of how to appropriately phrase my answer. Sin. We lived by it. We fed on it. We would kill each other for it. "They are to die for." He blinked but said nothing. For a moment, he almost looked interested, an eye brow twitching up quickly. I smiled. "Would you like me to start the preparations for your visit from Lady Middleford?"

"Yes." He sighed, finally taking a sip of his tea. He crossed his legs before continuing, setting himself in the automatic business mood he was in so often. It seemed Ciel was not interested in having any more emotions about the visit. "But make it simple, I don't want her to think I am trying to win her over with lavishness. She knows me well enough."

"Of course. Excuse me, my Lord." I left with a bow, leaving the tray of food for Ciel in case he would want to finish his meal, or at least eat the remaining strawberries. I hoped it would keep him satisfied long enough for me to prepare tea, but I truly doubted it. I was honestly surprised at how well he seemed to handle the newly opened wound that had finally started to heal. But Ciel must have known that a confrontation from Lady Middleford was unavoidable. I wondered if his control was from his will to impress, or his fear of feeling that bleeding wound across his heart. From what I hear, they are rather painful. I sighed as I made my way to the kitchen. Ciel's dear ankles were haunting me; I so much would have liked to snap them like little twigs, just to see what he would do. But I digress, that was improper of me. I let out another sigh. I had to reign these thoughts back under my control. They were completely unproductive and almost hindered my attempts at being a perfect butler. Perfect, only because I had nothing else to be.

However, with so little time to prepare tea, I decided I needed to think of something that was quick. I was relieved when my Master said to make it simple, and soon I had decided to make poached salmon with a watercress salad, and a simple parfait that would use up most of the final fruits that were becoming overripe. Wasted food was something I could not stand, ironic because of my lack of taste and desire for human food. It wasn't like I couldn't eat it - I had - but not only had it been quite a while since my last human meal, it had been even longer since my last soul. But I tried not to think about it. I had work to do.

Unfortunately, before I could even skin the salmon I was given a distraction. Finnian came running in, hysterical about some kind of nonsense. He wailed my name, holding large chunks of what seemed like marble. "I was raking the leaves off of the back steps just like you asked me to," I deciphered between wails. "But I tripped and I-I-"

"What could you have possibly done, Finny?" I asked, restraining my frustration.

"I broke the fountain! I'm so sorry!" From there, Finnian let out another wail, unable to make any more coherent words or phrases. I sighed.

"Well, let's see the damage you've done then." Finnian followed me out to the garden and in shambles stood, well, laid, what was left of the fountain. For a moment, I was stunned. I couldn't understand how it was possible to completely destroy the lady-figurine in the middle without completely dismantling the sides. Then, I didn't want to know; it was better if I was left in ignorance. Regardless of how it happened, I wondered how I was going to fix it. It could not be repaired before tomorrow at the earliest, which meant an unappealing garden to any guest who decided to pay my young Master a visit. I could rebuild it, decently enough considering my position as a Phantomhive butler, but it would be quite difficult and time-consuming at the present. And with Lady Middleford only an hour away, it wasn't going to get done on time. I turned to Finny who had ceased his exuberant sobbing and was standing uncomfortably behind me. "It's alright, Finny," I spoke slowly. "I guess it was time to fix up the old fountain anyway," I lied. "But we can build something that will suffice until I can get someone to build a new one."

"We can?" Finnian sniffed, easily slipping back into his perpetual good mood. "Would the Master be okay with this?"

"I'll have a talk with him." I turned to the gardener, making it utmost clear that I needed him to listen well. "But what I need you to do is to stack the rubble like so," I drew a mound shape in the air with my finger. "I will do the rest, alright? Come find me when you're done."

Finnian nodded enthusiastically. "Okay! I'll do this really well, Mr. Sebastian, just you wait and see!"

I nodded, hopeful he wouldn't ruin a simple pile of rocks. I think I might have even prayed. "I'll leave you to it then," I said, already walking back to the kitchen. I hoped I wouldn't be brought away from my preparations again. Of course, no sooner had I opened the door to go back inside than Mei-Rin came dashing out, an apology already on her lips. I didn't let her speak. "What's the problem now?" I sighed.

Mei-Rin paled as she skidded to a halt in front of me. "Mr. Sebastian sir, what are you doing out here?" I was about to answer, but she began talking again. "Wait, if you're out here, who's in the kitchen? I thought I heard someone in there, yes I did." I would have paled too, if I could. It could only be Baldroy who would bother himself in the kitchen knowing full well I was preparing the tea. Why did this always happen?

"Mei-Rin, what exactly did you come out for?"

"Oh, well, I wanted to apologize for Finny because he broke the fountain, but he already found you I see…." She stopped, flushing.

Again, I sighed. She was lying to me, but as long as she hadn't broken anything I didn't care. "Well, you are correct, but if you have time to come find me, does that mean you've washed all the linens, cleaned the silver for tea, ironed the tablecloths, cleaned the dining room and finished the other chores I asked of you?" Mei-Rin only flushed more. "Then I suggest you get started on them."

"Yes, sir Mr. Sebastian, sir," she stuttered, turning on her heel and taking off in a near sprint. Goodness, I was forming a headache. How many times had I told her not to run inside the manor?

But more concerning was the thought of Baldroy in my kitchen. I could only imagine the atrocity that could be the afternoon tea if I left him alone with it, and I hurried back. To my surprise, the food had not been touched, however Baldroy stood over it looking quite contemplative. "Bard," I asked, trying to keep the patience in my voice. "What are you doing in here?"

He flinched, spinning around to find me behind him. "'Ey! I didn' 'ear you come up, but I ain't doin' nothing'." He smiled, moving slowly away from the preparation table. "Nothin' a'tall," he continued. I raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing at all?" I quoted, thoroughly skeptical. Baldroy was not the type of person to do "nothing," especially "at all." But he smiled, albeit hesitantly and let out a laugh.

"I came in for a match is all, yanno, for a smoke."

"Well, you surely weren't thinking of smoking in here." Statement, in no way was I asking. "But you can smoke all you want outside while you're lighting the stove for me. I have tea to prepare, if you remember."

"Righ'," Baldroy drawled. He seemed to remember something else. "The Master's aunt is coming, righ'? You think he'll be okay wi' it?"

The sentiment was charming. "He'll be just fine."

Baldroy nodded. "Good t' know." He moved to leave, seemingly having completely forgotten I wanted the stove lit, or trying to sneak his way out of it.

I turned my attention back to the food that was arranged rather appealingly across the table and said, "Please don't forget the firewood before you leave, Baldroy." I could smell his disappointment; did he honestly think I would have forgotten that quickly?

"Go' it."

I waited until he was far out of sight before I began to skin the salmon, making sure not to damage the delicate fillets in any way. I placed them, once washed and patted dry in a baking dish with butter and salt. I then arranged a layer of lemon slices on top with a small sprig of thyme. I turned my attention to the parfaits. If I didn't get removed from my work, I would have just enough time to place them in ice before tea was served; I hoped that to be the case.

I carefully poured cream into a saucepan, making sure nothing dripped or spilled. As I waited for the liquid to simmer, I prepared the sugar and overripe fruits. I made a simple compote, maybe a little too sweet for Lady Middleford, but perfect for my Master's tastes. His obsession with sweets would probably lead to a mouth full of cavities one day, but so far is teeth were perfectly fine. I couldn't help but smile at the thought. If I did not brush his teeth on occasion, he would not have any.

I turned the fruit into a bowl to cool and added the sugar to the cream that was still on the stove. It melted slowly, and as I still had a bit of time before it was complete I whisked together the yolks of a few eggs. By the time I had finished, the cream was bubbling so I removed it from the heat and counted to ten, as it needed just a bit of time to cool or else the eggs would be scrambled instead of converting into a sweet, smooth creamy sauce.

Now, I must admit, no human could make a parfait this way, however, as an employee of the Earl of Phantomhive, it was my duty to make a perfect parfait for my young Master. Quickly, I whisked the cold yolks into the hot cream, a thick syrup forming perfectly in seconds. I smiled. I could expect no less. The parfait molds had already been prepared in a tub of ice, and I poured a thin layer of the cream inside to coat it completely. I placed the sauce in the ice as well, stirring my mixture until quite thick, close to the consistency of half-melted ice cream.

I checked the time; 1:21 pm. I had expected to be a little further along than I was. I arranged the watercress salad quickly on two places, piling the vegetation high so that once it wilted with the residual heat of the fish it would still be presentable.

By this time, the salmon had cooked enough that as it cooled in the covered dish it would steam itself to perfection. I removed the dish from the stove and set it down just in time for my young Master to ring for me from the library. I sighed to myself, wondering what he could possibly want. He had only been awake for an hour. For a moment, I looked at the amount of work I had done; it would be a shame if one of the other servants came in and destroyed it. I tried not to think about it as I left the meal vulnerable.

The young Master sat by the library window, a book on his lap. "You called for me, sir?" I asked, opening the door a little more, stepping inside.

"Yes," he drawled, still staring out the window at the makeshift fountain Finnian had finished. I wondered if he'd ask about it. "I want you to cancel the visit of Lady Middleford," he said stoically. I wanted to say something clever, but I held my tongue.

"Don't you think it's a little late for that, my Lord?" My smile was lost to him as he didn't move.

"I don't care. I don't want to see her; send her away or something."

Oh little Master, how inconvenient. "My apologies, but I cannot. Your aunt is already on her way, and I doubt she would agree to come back some other day just because you are apprehensive to see her." I hoped I was delicate enough with him, I didn't want, or need, this visit to be any more difficult than it already would be.

"Aren't you _listening_?" The young Master turned his eyes to me, quite furious. "I don't want to see her. I don't want to talk to her, I don't want to think of her!" My Master stood up, slamming the book on the end table. I did not move. "I don't want to deal with her right now, Sebastian. Do you understand _why_?" He was waiting for my reply. I tried to be compassionate.

"Of course I do, sir."

"Then why do you refuse to send her on her way? Your duty is to _protect_ me!"

"Lady Middleford doesn't seem the type for violence against children, sir." I smiled.

My Master scoffed, starting to pace slowly around the library. It was unusual to see him so distressed. He had been listless for so long it was almost exciting to see him animated again. I watched him, as he didn't speak, his expression constantly shifting from abject anger to intense sorrow. "Doesn't she know-" he started, standing now by a bookcase. He didn't finish, instead, he leaned against the structure and sighed. He looked at me, forlorn. "What should I do, Sebastian?"

I was surprised. My young Master hadn't asked an opinion of me in a very long time; the soon-to-be-presence of Lady Middleford was more unsettling to him than I first though. Still, my first reaction was to tease him about displaying weakness, but I knew this was not the time. I placed a finger on my chin in mock thought. "I think you should see her, sir. Don't forget, I will be there if the situation becomes…out of your control." I almost felt guilty for him, having me push this visit onto him. I knew it hurt, but I also knew that the sooner my Master could get through this, the sooner he could focus on other things. The sooner he could focus on our deal. The sooner I'd have his pulsating soul in my eager hands.

I was about to tell him it was the best course of action when he sighed again and put his hand up to his face. There I noticed a wrapping covering the palm of his hand. "Sir, what happened to your hand?" I inquired, walking towards him. The closer I got, the more I could smell the coppery taste of blood. I took a breath.

Ciel removed his hand from view. "It is nothing." I didn't believe him.

"Let me see," I said, reaching for his hiding arm. Ciel did not move, those small pink lips of his pressed into a scowl.

"I said it's nothing. Just a scratch." But he wavered, and when I grabbed his small arm he did not resist. The wrapping was a bit of gauze wound hastily around his hand. I removed it easily to see a rather large wound sliding down the palm of my Master's hand. "It was just the letter-opener," he mumbled, seemingly embarrassed. I wasn't sure what he could possibly be embarrassed about. I decided not to ask.

"Who cleaned this for you, sir?"

"No one, I bandaged it myself." Ha, so independent. "Why? Is it not up to your standards?" And a haughty remark. I saw the smirk on his lips. I chuckled.

"It could use some work, sir." The blood was already drying up, but I could tell the wound was still very fresh. My Master winced as I pressed down on the surrounding area, which broke the thin scab that had been forming and the cut started to bleed anew. I was desperate to taste it. "Good thing you're not left-handed, my Lord," I chided, leading him to the washroom. "Now let's get you cleaned up." Ciel didn't speak but continued to look ashamed of himself. I knew I wouldn't get a straight answer if I asked him, so I said nothing as well.

I cleaned and bandaged his hand quickly (as I was falling ever closer to devouring him there), telling him not to move it too much (which he scoffed at) then dismissed myself after reassuring him this visit from Lady Middleford had to happen. Ciel did not respond to that either, and I left the library in a strange mood to head back to the kitchen. The time was only 1:34. All I could think about was the blood that I - thankfully - hadn't gotten on my gloves.


	3. Chapter 3

The smell of his blood lingered with me; Oh how I would have loved to taste it. But I couldn't think about that now, I had tea to prepare. As I passed the dining room, Mei-Rin was busy dressing the table. I passed by silently, determined not to disturb her. Tanaka was busy drinking his tea, and I paid him no mind. I boiled the water for tea in the kitchen and poured it into a large pot, plated all the food excluding the dessert, and in all effects, readied the cart. I then made my way outside as there were at least fifteen minutes left before Lady Middleford was due for arrival. The fountain Finny had "repaired" was shoddy at best, in essence a pile of rocks not at all aesthetically pleasing. I bemoaned myself once again as to why I had to have such incompetent staff, however I also reminded myself that they _were_ getting better.

Now, about the fountain. I stood for a moment, wondering just how I was going to reconstruct it. There was no possible solution to rebuilding the close-to-perfect figure of the woman, so I knew I had to settle. But on what? It took me another moment to realize that only a swan could be constructed from the shambles of the elegant lady; it reminded me of a fairytale I had once heard. And with a bit of manipulation, I had the fountain reconstructed. Not to mention it looked quite fine for ten minutes worth of work. I was reminded of the time dear Elizabeth broke the Master's ring. I frowned; I had inadvertently darkened my own mood. I had to be in good spirits for the receiving of Lady Middleford, and so I washed my hands of the memories that tempted to overcome me, and I prepared myself for our guest.

Of course, she was on time. Lady Middleford was a very punctual lady, and, to my dismay, arrived in a rather foul mood. She stepped out of her carriage as proud as ever, a scowl already plastered on her thin lips. Her hair was pulled back, as always, and I half worried that she'd comment on mine and the Master's once again. There was, of course, nothing I could do about it now, but I would make sure we happily obliged if she happened to voice her disappointment.

She was stoic in her mourning dress as her footmen helped her to the ground. Black was pleasing on her. I was not surprised that the black crepe of her garments suited her, she was the type of woman to look best without the lace and frills of her daughter's preference. She was too strong for that, too forward thinking and independent. It was very unfortunate that Lady Elizabeth had not been more like her mother once my Master had returned home.

Lady Middleford came up to me deliberately, eyeing me with a suspicious gaze, but silent. I ignored her uncomfortable gaze; hopefully I could channel any aggression she should have towards my young Master somewhere else. "We have been expecting you, milady." I bowed. She was silent. "Tea and lunch will be served shortly in the dining room, if you could please follow me." Silence. I hoped she wasn't accusing me of some misdeed, though I knew her and the young Master to be on partially good terms. Or, at least, had been. The Lady did not say a word as I led her to the dining room. I tried to admire the shine on the silver place settings as I lead her to her seat, but I could do no such thing with the pertinent scowl on her face. "My Master should be here shortly," I said, apologetically. "He's had a difficult morning,"-would she catch that play on words?-"but if you wouldn't mind waiting here," I didn't bother to finish. Lady Middleford had not made a move, had not smiled, had not even given me another glance. She reminded me of the young Master, as stubborn as a mule.

I excused myself to look for the young Lord, not at all surprised to find him holed-up in his study. He sat behind his desk, hiding behind his pile of papers I knew he had already read and signed. There wasn't any more work for him to do, and so I assumed he was trying to ignore me and his aunt. I stepped up to the desk, coolly glancing at the boy with his head on the desk. "Sir, your Aunt is here."

He didn't verbally reply, only made a noise of acknowledgement.

"Are you coming down for lunch?"

"No," he muttered.

"Now, young Master-"

He sat up now, fury once again in his blue eye. His expression contorted from anger to fear, worry, panic and disappointment. "I don't want to! I never wanted to!" He was lashing out again, pounding his fists on the desk. Momentarily, I worried about the wound on his left hand. My young Master winced, relaxing his left hand slowly before removing both hands from my view entirely. I sighed.

"It would be best if you saw her, sir." Trying to convince him of his appearance was starting to frustrate me. "Am I right to assume she will get very angry if you do not appear? Besides, you look quite fetching in maroon." I tried to lighten the mood, but Ciel did not move. I could still smell the scent of his blood ebbing me closer to that insatiable desire. "Sir," I tried again, hoping that I could at least get him out of this room. "Lady Middleford is not going to have any patience for this. Might I remind you of her temper and willful nature? She will come looking for you herself." And that was something I did not want.

Ciel sighed while leaning back in his chair, and I knew I had won him over. I could smell the defeat. "Very well," he replied. "Let's get this dreadful visit over with." He stood but did not step in front of me. I raised an eyebrow at his sudden lack of initiative, but he was ignoring me, eyes downcast as he fingered the bandage on his left hand.

I stepped up beside him, close enough to get him to recognize my presence - he tensed for a moment - but far enough away to not be threatening. I was puzzled. If he was going to act like a child, then I would treat him like one. "Very good, young Master." I led him to the dining room, literally. He followed me closely, still silent. I opened the dining room doors for him but did not go in. "I'll serve your tea shortly," I said, excusing myself in the process. Ciel did not object, but I saw the look of restrained fear in his eye. For his sake, I hurried to return.

Yet, by the time I had come with their tea service and lunch, it seemed as nothing had happened. My Master sat stiffly in his chair across from Lady Middleford, while she seemed to stare him down relentlessly. I didn't think either of them noticed I had come in until I had placed their food in front of them. My Master looked startled for a moment when he saw what I served, but did not speak. Lady Middleford however, did.

"I'm so _glad_," she stressed, an air of falsehood enveloping her words. "That at least your _butler_ has some _sense_ after this tragedy." I did not approve of her opinion, but I did nothing.

"I cannot help that I am very busy," my Master stated softly. Once again, he reminded me of a child, however, this time he seemed to be waiting for a reprimand. I was waiting for it as well, but that did not stop the faint sense of pity I held for him in his situation. It was unfortunate for the three of us. "There isn't much time for me to-"

Lady Middleford interrupted, shouting. "You've had enough time to make an appointment with me!" Ciel flinched at her loud words. I felt a strange longing in the pit of my stomach to embrace the young Master, as it seemed he was about to cry. "You've had time, it seems, to not only repetitively reschedule this visit, but also place a noteworthy amount of thought into the new Funtom products. Yes, Ciel, I notice these things, so please tell me again why you cannot possibly come pay your respects!"

I balked at Lady Middleford's forthright question. I knew it was not my place to speak, however the young Master was still at a loss for words. He was staring at his salmon, an unreadable expression on his face. I could smell too many emotions radiating from him to define a single one, though I could tell he didn't yet have the capacity to speak. Where was the confident child I had come to know? I couldn't say, but I had to say something, even it if was to buy my Master a bit more time to recollect himself. "My Lady, if I may-"

"No you may not! Ciel has his own lungs, his own voice. If he wishes to speak, let him speak!" I did not move, I did not even apologize as Lady Middleford antagonized my dear Master. I was not going to compete with her, and I doubted that was something the young Master would approve of me doing. Though nowadays, it was becoming increasingly harder to tell. "Well, Ciel? What do you have to say for yourself?"

It became apparent to me that my hasty attempt to serve tea was not hasty enough. I did feel pity for my Master, I knew this may be too much for him. I also hoped he could find a word, any word, to say before his aunt started another interrogation.

The silence was deafening between the three of us.

Suddenly, my Master's chair toppled over with a crash. He stood, defiantly up to the table, his small arms locked as his fists rested between the cutlery. Anger had bubbled up in him, fueling the scowl on his lips and the fire in his eye. Finally, how very much like my young Master. How very much like Ciel.

"Let me explain this to you again," Ciel said coldly, but I could smell his blood boiling. "I am _very_ busy with my many duties, and I am terribly ashamed, _yes_! _Ashamed_! That I have yet to pay my respects to dear Elizabeth. But _please_, Lady Middleford, inform me of what you are doing in _your_ attempt to arrest her murderers. If you will, have you made any progress? Do you have a list of names? An idea? Anything at all?" I smiled. So, Ciel had had enough. "Do not try and shame me into thinking I have not done what is right. It is _I_ who is trying to solve this horrible murder of Elizabeth, not you! You cannot sit there and accuse me of heresy when you have done nothing!" I was proud, very proud of the conviction my little Ciel had. Lady Middleford did not speak, not yet. Ciel was not finished, his little lungs gasping in rage. "I did not think so. So please, I think it best if you not try to accuse me, the only one who is _trying_, because I am doing my best." He sighed. I had picked up his chair during his outburst, and he collapsed back into it. "However, if it makes you feel better, I will surely visit on Sunday."

The Lady sighed. She did not seem shocked, dismayed, or otherwise phased by my young Lord's outburst. It seemed strange. "I'm sorry Ciel." I was interested in what she would say to defend herself, as her apology was rushed. "I'm so sorry; it's so horrible what they have done to her. I, I can't think straight about the entire situation. What they did to my poor daughter. My poor Elizabeth." She was silent again. I saw her eyes shine, but she didn't cry. No, Lady Middleford was not one to cry. But it seemed she was not one to hide behind thin apologies and reasonings, yet she did. I would not question her, though it would be interesting to see what Ciel would say about her later tonight. My little Ciel rested in his chair, eyes closed, trembling. Immediately, I knew what he was reliving. I knew the pain he was feeling, that torture he had gone through. What he suffered. It was a shame, and I was dissatisfied that it had to be brought up like this, but I knew Ciel would be stronger for it, and his thirst for revenge, his real revenge, would finally resurface. He would gain victory, I would gain his soul. This was a start, and though I had not planned for this per say, I was pleased that Ciel had finally broken his long silence about his late fiancée.

"Young Master," I spoke softly; his entire diminutive frame was shaking. I could pick out the sour scent of fear emanating from him, something I was most accustomed to and rather enjoyed. Fear was usually the backdrop to the memories of my previous masters. Truthfully, it made me hungry. Regardless, Ciel had not responded to my inquiry, and I placed a light hand on his shoulder. He went completely rigid and I smiled beside myself. "I think it may be best if we moved on to dessert?" Even though I was very interested in what could happen between these two, I was also concerned about Ciel's health, as I could hear a raspiness settle in his throat, chest heaving slightly. It was admirable how well he hid his unease.

"Yes," he said, effortlessly calm. "That's a good idea Sebastian."

With a bow I said, "Yes, my Lord," and dismissed myself from the dining room. I shut the door quietly, impressed that Ciel had handled himself so well. A month ago, it had been impossible for him to talk of Elizabeth. He had not said her name since the night he received the letter of her death and all the circumstances around it. It had been a very long night for the both of us. In the kitchen, the parfaits were frozen to perfection. Ah, the simple bliss of a perfectly prepared dessert. Perfection easily lifted my mood. I readied my cart quickly, as I was still uneasy with leaving little Ciel with Lady Middleford for too long. He tended to be even more short-tempered than usual, and I wouldn't want the Middleford's any more offended, especially since they were such skilled swordsmen and Edward continued to blame his sister's death on my young Master. I wondered if Edward would be selfish enough to make a deal with me? Ah, if only I wasn't leashed to my young Lord. Now, don't misunderstand those words, I very much enjoy serving the young Master, but it has been quite some time since my last meal, and even with the contract in place, I still yearned. Ah, but, those thoughts didn't matter - I wasn't even sure how I had come to them - and with my cart prepared, I made my way back to the dining room.

I served the parfaits quickly, as the tension in the room had not lessened in my absence. They ate in complete silence, and I wondered if they had spoke at all while I was gone. But Lady Middleford hastily said her good-byes soon after, and I then knew I had missed something. Of course, I could take a guess, but with the stubbornness of the both of them, my guess could very much be incorrect. But for the young Master to reveal what I had missed? Impossible.

My young Lord made his way to his study as I seen Lady Middleford off. When I could no longer see her carriage, I went inside. I spotted Mei-Rin running off with an armful of laundry out of the corner of my eye. I smiled, finally the staff was getting work done without any accidents.

I returned to the kitchen to finish cleaning up and make the young Master's tea for the afternoon. Even though it was barely half past three, I knew he'd want another cup a little early before his French lessons. The young Master had fallen back into his reclusive ways, but I was still interested in what had transpired between him and the Lady. It wasn't like him to argue and then say nothing of it. Honestly, I looked forward to serving his tea. I only had a few dishes to wash, the dessert places and parfait molds mostly. I cleaned them quickly and wondered if the young Master would be hungry again. Supper would be soon, undoubtedly, even with the late lunch. I could delay it until six-thirty, but any later would be irresponsible of me with this October weather; it was already getting dark and the air was cool. I sighed; regardless of time, my Master would surely want something _else_ sweet, but I would have to refuse. Besides, I now had to get started cooking, and I still wanted to clean a few more rooms before I had to put my young Master to bed.

Alas, supper would have to be something I could make quickly. Of course, I could always materialize a meal. I had only done it a few times in these three years. The first time, of course, when I was contracted, and a handful of times within those two months before I stopped being as…confused and angry. Despite my perfected skills now, I had quite a steep learning curve those few months. In all honesty, I hadn't contracted a noble in quite some time, and a child no less? I've eaten the souls of children before, but I hadn't the requirement to baby-sit them. I sighed as I waited for the water to boil in the kettle. What a strange predicament I was in. A demon being a butler, babysitting a child just for a delicious soul. It sounded most amusing. My, how far I had fallen. Though, I didn't feel like this way below me, not any longer. I enjoyed the routine, the acting, the cooking. If I dare to say, it was quite fun. I had no problem being a loyal servant any longer. Three years was not that long a time, and I doubted I'd have this experience again in my lifetime. I could enjoy it while it lasted, however, no longer than I had to. I wasn't going to let my dear Master rope me around like a lost puppy, but for the time being, I could manage.

There wasn't much time for my Master to enjoy his tea before Madame Charbonaise arrived. Unfortunately, I did not have time to either prepare for her arrival or speak with my Master before she had seated herself in the drawing room with him and was going over the past-participles yet again. My Master had been neglecting his studies lately, and as I cleared up what was left of his tea, he was still struggling. I saw him give me a glance, searching for some aid, but I could only bow for forgiveness as I left the room. I knew Madame Charbonaise to be very kind-hearted, French as she was, so I did not think he would be too distressed by the end of his lessons. I was preparing for dinner as she left, and I had Mei-Rin escort her to her carriage. From what I heard, the tutor wasn't thrilled with my young Master's blatant refusal to study. It could not be helped. No amount of my prodding had gotten him to study for any longer than thirty minutes throughout the day on any subject, and even though they all knew of the death of his fiancée, - London was still abuzz with it after all, even though it had been over a month now - it seemed they were all running out of patience. I chuckled to myself. How unprofessional, we were paying them were we not? They surely could not have too many complaints.

Supper was coming along smoothly enough. I was preparing a simple beef stew in an effort to fill up my young Master. I had taken notice that he wasn't eating as much as he should, and I noticed more recently that his clothes had begun to hang on him. Being a young boy, I assumed it wouldn't take much for him to lose enough weight for it to be noticeable; he had always been thin in the three years I knew him, but even with his tea and desserts, he was looking more frail than usual. I was glad he didn't seem to want to repeat his actions after Elizabeth's death - he didn't eat for an entire week - and I've been nursing him slowly back to some semblance of health since. As a Phantomhive butler, it was the least I could do.

I stirred the stew, wondering if it would need more salt, however, my thoughts were suddenly interrupted. My hand hurt. And for a moment I was perplexed. To clarify, pain was something I was used to. Despite being a demon - or, more accurately, because I am a demon - most twinges of pain I feel aren't much to concern myself with. A spear through the chest feels, at most, like stubbing a toe or getting a friction burn. I wasn't concerned with that caliber of pain; I felt it from previous wounds most of the day, those twinges would fade with time. But this pain in my hand, on the contract, was a kind of pain I couldn't identify. I think, the only way to describe it was that the mark had been soaked in lamp oil and set alight. But I knew that even a burn would not hurt me as much as this. No, this was, unfortunately supernatural, especially since the appearance of the contract under my gaze had not changed. I clenched my jaw at the pain but ignored it for the time being. There wasn't much I could do; a strange pain with an unknown source would be like a goose hunt.

Yet, again, I was interrupted. I could hear the young Master's screams in my mind before I heard them echo down the halls. If I had a more human heart, I assume his cries would be considered heart-wrenching, but I found them quite exciting. Somewhere deep inside, I was enjoying the sound of complete abandon coming from my young Master. However, I disregarded those thoughts as well as the pain in my hand, finding my overwhelming concern for the young Master (and thus, our contract) more important. His cries were sharp, piercing through the silence that had settled in the manor.

I faced the ornate doors to the study in mere seconds, making it a certain fact that I had beaten the other servants. I knew they would be coming - that's what I trained them for - but for now I did not know if I even wanted them here. I threw the doors open, surveying the room quickly. A few papers littered the floor, but the room was otherwise untouched and empty except for my poor Master writhing and shrieking on the floor.

"Young Master!" I knelt beside him as he thrashed, blood permeating his maroon coat. He was holding his face, hands clasped around his right eye, blood running between his fingers. I was shocked. So it was harming the both of us. Before I could make another move, the young Master directed his screams at me.

"What did you do?!" He screamed at me but couldn't look. He had curled up on the floor, his voice starting to crack from use. His accusations didn't hurt me, however his constant screaming, even as cracked as it was, made me more and more concerned. He was going to make himself sick if he continued to scream like this. He was going to hurt himself.

"I'm sorry sir," I spoke softly, knowing very well he was listening, and intently, despite the pain. His mind was weak from pain and confusion, making it an open book for me to read, though it was something I didn't do very often. Now, I was desperate to find the source of his pain, but he didn't know any more than I did. "I don't know what is happening." I moved closer to him as doubt surfaced in his mind. As I touched his arm in an attempt to reveal the wound on his face, the young Master finally lost his voice and violent sobs shook his frail body instead of screams. "But I intend to find out, sir," I said, trying to smile for him as I watched him cry.

He tried to fight me as I moved to pry his hands from his eye, even though they weren't doing anything to stop the bleeding. He fought me hard, kicking and attempting to yell at me to stop. But it wasn't an order and I made no attempt to listen to his pained moans of "no, it hurts," as I had to gently straddle his hips to keep him from kicking me in the face. He was acting very much like a child in pain, which only alerted me to the danger this situation could hold. I still was not sure what was going on, but it would most likely be something powerful to force my Master into such an embarrassing state. "Let me see," I stated for what seemed the tenth time, attempting to untangle my arms from his. The young Master was not giving up, seemingly content on combating my own attempts to remove his eye patch by digging his nails into any exposed flesh. To my fortune, he was too short to reach my face, but as he continued to claw at my sleeves in something like blind panic, I grew impatient. I wasn't sure if this was some kind of game - humans were known to act strangely in intense situations, but this seemed unreasonable - so I lassoed both his wrists with one hand and pinned them above his head. "I'm sorry sir," I said. I wasn't sure if I was truthful as I watched him hyperventilate beneath me. "But I must see that eye of yours."

I removed the patch and a swell of blood followed yet tapered off quickly. The young Master moaned as I peeled back his eyelid, and for a moment I wasn't sure what I was looking at. The contract that had healed in his eye years ago looked just as fresh as the day I made it. It was fleshy, pink, bleeding and raw, yet what concerned me most was that it seemed my Master's eye had been completely removed from its socket, the seal carved carefully into the gaping hole the missing eye left behind.


	4. Chapter 4

The Young Master ceased to fight me. Too weak from blood loss, he lay limp beneath me. I could let go of his hands now without fear of losing skin, but I did not move from on top of him. Still studying his wound, I found that his eye had not been removed (and for that I was thankful, for not only did I have no way to explain its disappearance, but it would yield various difficulties with our contract), but it _had_ turned entirely black. Albeit, it would be easier on my Master's fragile psyche to say his eye was black and not missing mysteriously, but I still had no reason as to why. But it would not be out of my Master's realm of possibilities to order me to find out. I hoped he could still see through it after the seal healed over once again. I could heal it, but would it stay?

I removed myself from the young Lord who had yet to make another move. I knew he was weak, and the chaos in his mind reaffirmed to me that he wouldn't be capable of listening to me, let alone answer any questions I could have asked. He was silent now, but awake. He was probably too shocked to do much else. Mei-Rin then skidded into view, and as soon as she saw the blood, she waited for my instructions. I turned to her, trying to look calm but still concerned. "Mei-Rin, I need you to bring many, many bandages. Also, tell Finny to bring a large bowl of cold water and every antiseptic he can find. Then, tell Bard to bring a bucket of very hot water, and please be quick about it."

"Yessir," she said curtly, utterly serious, as she ran off once again. I turned back to the young Lord, wondering if it hurt him to keep his eye open like he was. It seemed he was trying not to move his eyes at all, so I told him to close both, and if he would like, he could rest on me until I could clean the wound. Child-like, he closed his eyes without a sound and nodded.

I lifted him up gently from the blood-soaked rug. I could hear the footsteps of the other servants, so I went to greet them in the hallway. It was obvious my instructions had been well followed; Mei-Rin came running with an armful of bandages, and Finny came slowly with an old mixing bowl of iced water, and stuffed into his arms were various bottles of the aforementioned products. Baldroy, I was told, was still boiling the water. I smiled. At least my staff did well under pressure.

"Good work, everyone," I said, making sure I did not alarm them. I did not want them to think that I had been any more than alarmed at our Master's misfortune; the less they knew about the incident, the better it would be. "Now, if you could, Finny, take the water and antiseptics into the washroom for me. And Mei-Rin, please give me half of those bandages. Your half will be used to blot the blood out of the rug in the study. Please be careful when you use the brush, the rug was every expensive. And when Baldroy returns, please let him know he will be helping you." The pair looked at me before moving. They looked at one another, then back at me. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "Well," I murmured impatiently. How these servants taxed me. "What happens to be the matter?"

"Um," Finny started, shuffling his feet. His face was slowly turning a bright red. He didn't continue.

"We were wonderin' about all the screaming," Mei-Rin said quietly. Baldroy suddenly rounded the corner, coming within earshot.

"Ah, well, the young Master had a little accident is all."

"Little?" they all asked in unison.

"Of course. Don't you think I would be more concerned if it was serious?"

Baldroy came to a stop beside Mei-Rin, taking a look into the study. "Sebastian," he started, doubt dripping from his voice. "That's a lo' of blood for a 'ittle' accident."

I smiled. Of course the ex-solider would doubt me. I just hoped the trust they all had in me would win them over. "It's just a facial wound Bard," I explain calmly. "You know how wounds on the face are; simply, they bleed a lot, correct? And you know how blood always looks deceiving, there is never as much as there looks." Baldroy chewed at his cigarette but didn't say anything else. Hopefully that would suit for now. "Alright, if you don't have any more questions," I looked at all three of them who looked back silently. Patiently. "Please get these few tasks done as I go clean up our young Lord. I'll be putting him to bed after I'm finished, and then I'll come and check up on all of you." I smiled faintly. "As you can see, he's exhausted himself." Ciel had not moved since I had picked him up, but he was not sleeping. Eyes closed, he had turned his face into my waistcoat to keep the servants from seeing his wound. I could feel him trembling. "Oh," I continued, keeping the mood as light as possible. "And please don't worry about supper, I will still have it finished." Finny looked like he was going to say something, but I turned curtly towards the washroom to keep him from speaking, and he followed silently. Once there, he sat the bowl and bottles on the stool beside the sink and scurried out. Thankfully, he shut the door behind him, as I was still holding the young Master. He was much calmer now - my presence seemed to calm him - though my active healing of his eye and the anesthetic feelings that ensued probably helped much more. Supernatural wounds could be healed supernaturally of course. If I couldn't at least to this, what kind of butler would I be?

The bleeding had almost stopped, but I did not let my Master down as I drew his bath. I removed my gloves as I continued to hold him, and the young Master did not complain. I decided it would be best if I ignored the expression forming on his face. Now that Ciel was no longer in pain, he seemed upset that I was holding him, but did not want me to put him down. How childish, fighting with himself like this. Still, I could tell he was trying to be strong, because the grimace on his face was not moving. However, the young Master had never been one to be childish - yet day after day I seemed to be proved differently - and I completely understood his reasons for the changes in his behavior, but I wondered if he would stay like this, a boy erring ever so close to a spoiled, indulgent noble-child. Not that I had a complaint about noble children, but his indulgences were not what lured me to him.

"Can you sit, young Master?" I asked softly, leaning him against the rim of the filling tub. "I would much prefer to get these filthy clothes off you without having to hold you as well."

He looked up at me, for only a moment. I saw the flash of childish defiance in his one blue eye, but he seemed to think better of it and only said, "Fine." I placed him more firmly on the edge, and he wrapped his bloody hands over the thick porcelain rim, and I knelt to start undressing him. I wondered if this silence would be considered strange. The young Master didn't seem to mind the silent routine, tight lipped as always as I began to untie his soiled cravat and waistcoat. The buttons were smooth - like always - against my barren fingers; what a shame it would be to have to destroy these clothes, especially as they smelled like the intoxicatingly true essence of the boy. His blood was all over me. _He_ was all over me (and I would have to destroy my clothes because of it). But now was not the time for me to indulge in my fancies because I knew Ciel was watching me closely, and I knew that in these recent events he was going to have to doubt me. My default vague and irrelevant answers were one matter, but causing my Master pain - and even not knowing the cause - would be inexcusable to him. And I knew my Master well.

"What did you do to my eye," was his simple question. I had known it was coming, and I knew what he'd say next. I dreaded it, mostly because I could not tell any half-truths here, not as I unwrapped the bandage on his left hand, not as I lifted the frail body and placed it in the hot water, turning off the faucet. Ciel spoke as I began to remove my own soiled tailcoat and rolled up my now wet sleeves. "And do not lie to me, this is an order." I could still feel the distinguished pull of an order placed upon me, yet it was shockingly diminished, which not only dismayed me, but - I wouldn't say worried - intrigued me in a dreadful way. The contract had been tampered with. "Sebastian," Ciel spoke again impatiently. "Answer me."

I looked at little Ciel, pale skin flushed already, face still covered in blood. He did not open his dark eye, possibly because it hurt (which I doubted) or maybe more because of fear and habit. It shouldn't hurt, I had made sure, thought I still needed to clean it. "Sir, I will never lie to you, you know that." I meant the statement, as far as the contract was concerned. I did not lie, not completely.

"Then what did you do?"

I hesitated, trying to play off my silence by lathering a wash clothe to wipe his face. "I did not harm you, my Lord." It was truth. Ciel however was not satisfied, which I knew by the deep scowl that had formed on his face. But he didn't ask another question, he let me gently rub the blood off his small face. I made care to avoid his darkened eye, rubbing small circles on the soft flesh of his cheeks, brushing past the dark lashes of his good , closed eye, barely touching the lips that held his next words.

"Sebastian, what do you know about this?" Again, dread. Even though I had gotten over - and even used to - telling only truths, I could easily weave a truth for the young Master, though I was honestly sick of it. Since Lady Elizabeth's death, it seemed Ciel was determined to prove his control over me, as his continuous quest for the "truth" had became a game. It was like he was trying to catch me in a lie, at least, when he _did_ talk to me. His fluctuations had been rapid and exhausting. He either would not speak, cling to me desperately, or try to prove me wrong. I couldn't comprehend it; what did he want from me now?

I still had to answer. "Not much, my Lord." I added an extra touch of regret to my voice. I _did_ regret it, but I didn't want the young Master to think it was a good idea to send me off to find an answer. I was not going to leave him alone considering there was something that was trying to either get _my _attention, or claim Ciel. It was more dangerous for him than me, as he did attract trouble frequently. But I was concerned for his safety, and I wanted to make sure he wouldn't send me away. "All I can say, is that whatever is harming you is a very powerful supernatural entity." Ciel did not speak; he looked away so I could not see his face, so I started to run the clothe gently down his neck. I didn't pay too much heed to his shudder as I did so, content on watching the soap flow in tiny rivulets down his delicate flesh, pooling in the recess in his collarbone, guiding my eyes to the raised scars on his shoulders. I frowned. I would not let something like that happen again. I began to wash his shoulders before Ciel could notice my sudden lapse of attention. I tried not to pay attention to the blood that was tinting the bath water pink. It smelled heavenly, but I bit my tongue to keep my mouth closed. I knew Ciel was starting to doubt my ability to protect him, it was inevitable now that his world was turning upside down. This new addition of a threat to the contract was disturbing at best, and would not help my Master's view of me. I was completely in the dark, but I could not let him know that.

I had begun to wash his back, rubbing small circles on his bony body. My young Master had, in fact, lost weight. But I couldn't possibly bring it to his attention. His brand still looked fleshy and pink as it always did, but when I rubbed over it Ciel jerked away with a hiss. I retracted quickly, concern on my face. "Does it hurt, sir?"

"Obviously."

"Did it hurt before?" I couldn't remember if Ciel had said anything about it last night. He had started to wash himself before I could get to his back, but I did know that the scar looked the same. But if it had hurt yesterday, he must not have said anything about it. But Ciel just shrugged. I frowned, reaching out to touch it again with my bare skin this time, but Ciel jerked away again, turning around this time as a yelp escaped his lips.

"Don't!"

Hmm, I didn't know what to make of this new pain. "I'm terribly sorry, sir." Ciel glared at me through his good eye, sizing me up before grabbing the clothe out of my hands and furiously scrubbing at his own. I turned away to drag the stool with the water, bandages and medications on it closer towards me, and when I turned back Ciel had froze mid-movement. "Young Master?" He wasn't facing me, so I moved to where I could see his face, almost afraid to touch him lest he lash out at me. He stared off into the distance. I could not help but touch his shoulder gently, very concerned that he had distanced himself so quickly. "Are you all right?" Nothing. He hadn't blinked yet, and his blue eye was starting to eclipse with tears. But just as suddenly as he froze, he let out a faint whimper, seemingly unbeknownst to him and began scrubbing at his hands again. "Young Master?" I asked again. "Did you see something?"

My poor attempt at a joke was lost on him. He didn't stop scrubbing, he didn't even look up. Lowly, he said, "I don't know what you're talking about." I couldn't tell if he was serious, but even if he wasn't, I couldn't help the concern that was still building inside me. He was going to reopen that cut on his hand. I hadn't felt like this before, and it was overwhelming. How could I help him when I couldn't identify the problem? It was frustrating, almost infuriating. Is this what humans felt on a regular basis? No wonder the rates of insanity were so high.

I let Ciel scrub at himself for just as moment longer as I sorted through the bottles Finny had brought. It became apparent that he had grabbed everything in sight, as out of the large bunch only three were the antiseptics I was looking for. The large brown bottle of Lister's disinfectant was wholly appreciated; carbolic acid did wonders. And since I knew Ciel's eye was not some festering, open wound, I was not afraid to use it. Ciel however would not be pleased. I poured a bit into the bowl of water, still icy cold. I glanced at Ciel as I dropped in the strips of cloth from Mei-Rin. He was still scrubbing fervently at his hands, which had started to turn an irritated red. "My Lord," I said, possibly a bit too poignantly, as Ciel once again went rigid. I sighed to myself, annoyed that I was startling the boy at a time like this. I turned to him fully, slowly reaching out to take the cloth from his little hands. "You're going to rub them raw, and open up that wound," I said slowly, engulfing his hands in mine, torn between enjoying the contact I had with his skin and chastising myself for my lucrative habit. But I broke the contact quickly enough. "Please, be careful." I re-lathered the clothe for him, giving it back as he still had yet to move. "Would you like to finish?" Oh, the silence. Ciel took the clothe and began washing again, starting at his shoulders. I waited patiently for him to finish.

He had refused to wash his new eye as well, so I hoped I could be convincing enough to him that he'd let me do it quickly. Ciel did not smell like he was in pain, not like he did before. "Sir," I stated, placing my hands in the bowl of water - I could not feel the temperature - and began to gather the bandages that floated there. "Your eye needs to be looked at; does it still hurt?" Finally, he looked at me. The blood that I had left on his face was dark and ruddy, giving his face a bruised appearance. It was almost endearing, but the scowl on his face persuading me not to react.

He shook his head. "No, it doesn't hurt."

"Very well," I said, smiling. Ciel looked at one of the bandages that was in my hand. I had already wrung it out. "Please, be patient," I continued to smile, even as he gasped when I placed the cold fabric against his face. He did not move again as I reapplied it, or when I gently wiped the remaining blood from his face. However, he kept the eye closed. He watched me silently, his good eye steely, determined to find something; what, I did not know. Ciel was expressionless, not even displaying frustration when I told him to open his wounded eye. He did so immediately - much to my surprise - but just as suddenly both eyes grew wide. "Sir?" I asked, his silent shock disconcerting.

He moved his mouth a bit, like he was too shocked to speak, quickly bringing up a hand to cover the black eye. He covered it tenderly, still seeming to be afraid that it would hurt, looking down now at the rim of the tub. A whisper escaped his lips: "I can't see." He was lying, I could smell it. But I didn't know what exactly to do about it. He looked back up at me, for once, truly candid. He was scared, almost terrified, a haunted look in that churning blue. "Why can't I see?"

I frowned, not at all pleased. The more that was revealed about this incident, the more I realized just how powerful this being was. Harming across long distances, targeting contracts made by demons, agitating a previous scar. Coupled with the recent death, the letter from Lau, and my own unease this past month, there could be only one conclusion. However, I wasn't sure if my Master had perceived it yet, and if he did, he was taking it too well. I assumed otherwise. "Open your eye, please." He did so, dropping the hand covering it in the process. The seal had healed well enough, still recessed like a carving would be, and it held no presence of the being that had inflicted it. Ciel's eye was so black, it would have been impossible to tell where he was looking, except that the scar moved with it. I brought my hand to his cheek, caressing the skin under his eye with my thumb. He didn't move, it was like he couldn't even feel it. Carefully, I touched my thumb to the surface of his eye. Ciel did not move, he did not even blink.

He squinted at me, a mixture of annoyance and fear tracing the lines of his lips and eye. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing, sir." I removed my hand, again, resorting to a smile to keep him from discerning my concern. "How does your eye feel?"

"Fine."

"Completely?"

"Yes. I don't feel anything." Oh, young Master, how right you are. His eye, for all purposes, was dead and well preserved. And even though my seal was still in place, I doubted it would respond correctly. That was why his order felt different to me. But even with the mark on dead flesh, Ciel was still mine. His heart was still beating, his lungs still breathing, and so, the contract would stay in place. But now there was a weakness, and I wondered if that scar on his back had something to do with it. There was no point in me cleaning the eye now, it has been preserved in the attack, sealing the eye off completely, like an invisible bubble, my mark included. It would not rot or suffer from infection, but I could not let my dear Ciel know that. I smiled at him, reaching for another bandage to clean it with. I would proceed like it was still a living organ. "I'm sure you'll recover sight in that eye eventually," I said jovially, again placing the cold fabric to his face. "But for now, let's get it cleaned up so it will heal correctly and without incident."

Ciel did not object.


	5. Chapter 5

My young Master had fallen asleep quickly, obviously too exhausted to even ask me what, exactly, his eye looked like. It was not reassuring. Mei-Rin and Baldroy had cleaned the study well enough, but the rug still gave off a lingering sent of old blood that I found pleasurably pungent. I had refused to let myself dwell on the thought of my Master's soul while I was with him, but now that he was asleep, there weren't any repercussions for me to worry about. But I could come back to those thoughts later, I still had to finish the supper that would only be enjoyed by the servants now. What a bother.

Nevertheless, all four of them were beyond thankful to eat the stew, and I was glad I hadn't made much else, because they seemed quite full on it alone. I informed them that the Master was asleep and they should finish up whatever task they were working on currently and head to bed. I didn't want to have to micromanage them tonight; I still needed to clean a few rooms and take care of the rug and my young Lord's soiled clothes. And I had to think about this new bother to me, this _being_ that was posing quite a problem to my Lord. What was I going to do about it? There was no presence for me to track down; I could potentially investigate all…no, that would not help now. I sighed, standing in the study once again. The rug smelled tantalizing, even if the taint of old blood was trying to overpower the fragmented smell of his soul.

I folded my arms, trying to think of any solution to this new problem. Considering I didn't know what, exactly, the entity was, or if it was even present, exorcism would be the last resort. I did not want to harm my seal any more than necessary, and it seemed like a superfluous action at this point. But what else was there? My, this was beyond frustrating. It seemed I would have to wait until something else happened, hopefully not something harmful. I soon decided I would keep a watchful eye on my Master, and I also reminded myself that I would have to talk to my young Lord about what had happened sometime tomorrow. I did not want him to distrust me, not now. It seemed things were getting very serious very quickly; could the young Lord handle all of this? Not to mention he still had his vague plans for revenge, and the letter he was so angry about only a few days before. I felt a bit sorry for him; life seemed to be turning against him. Hopefully the Queen would not send another letter for a while; searching out more murderers would be tedious for me and the young Master, and it also meant putting him out in the open, which is not something I wanted. I knew I sounded very overprotective, but I was not going to lose my meal to some being which did not have the courage to come fight me directly for it. That was absurd. So, I would have to lie low and hope nothing unfortunate happened.

I wasn't too worried, however, because I knew I could handle it, but could Ciel? Could his fragile little body take it? His mind was already starting to decay; that wit I had once loved turning into a distant memory. The determination was still there, but the fury was subdued, the confidence was waning, his drive for revenge fading. The realization that I had wasted my time was a harsh one; I refused to give into that thought. The young Master was not as weak-minded as to corrupt his soul. No, even if he lost his mind completely, he would still taste the same. There was nothing that could defile his taste. I was sure of it.

And so I removed the rug from the study, and I discarded it - as well as my Master's clothes - and I gave myself a mental note to order a new rug from Persia. It was unfortunate the stain hadn't come up, despite the thorough scrubbing I'm sure Mei-Rin and Baldroy gave it. The moon was only just breaking across the horizon. I was relieved to have the rest of the night to clean up, but still having my schedule ransacked was irritating. I sighed as I reorganized the bookshelves; the young Master had obviously been busy pulling books out, but had not been as keen on putting them back. I put them in their places quickly, finding a few loose pages stuffed into the cover of some book I didn't bother to catch the title of. The pages looked like ledgers, so I took them with me to the desk.

I pulled out the uppermost drawer quietly, finding the letter opener resting on top of a stack of papers. It smelled of the young Master. My first thought was to lick it - of course he had cleaned it, but it still smelled of his blood - but that would have sent me on a (no pun intended) bloody rampage. I chuckled to myself at the thought of murdering the entire Phantomhive staff, saving the young Master for last. Wouldn't that be interesting? I picked up the heavy metal piece, placing it on the desk to wipe off to my satisfaction later. Under it, I spotted something seemingly half-written by my Master; hiding in plain sight as it were. I wouldn't have bothered to pick it up if I hadn't seen the word "occult" scrawled across the page. I knew the young Lord had absolutely no interest on anything that dealt with the occult other than me, so it piqued my interest. I pulled out the entire stack, intending to at least pile them up correctly with the other pages I had found earlier.

My Master's handwriting was horrible.

But the letter was a response to Lau, a vague affirmation of the information Lau had previously provided, but my young Lord had also included a suspicious phrase in the post-script: "I shall inform you of the plan at a later date." Was Lau going to be included in my young Master's plans of revenge? Was this something my Master had refused to tell me, _again_? I felt a little left out. But, of course there had to be things my Master did without me. I could not possibly stay by his side at all times. He was a growing boy, of course he would keep his secrets. But he would not, _could _not, act on his own. He could barely button his own shirt, he would be hilariously lost without me. Ah, but, the letter. I wasn't concerned, not yet. My young Lord would reveal his intentions to me eventually. At least, he would not _act_ without me. So, I wasn't worried just yet. I tidied the pile of papers and placed them back in the drawer then picked up the letter opener once more, taking it with me to clean thoroughly.

But I didn't think about the blood, my mind kept wandering back to the parasite problem. There were too many demons and other beings that could potentially be harming my Master, even more of a problem if it was more than one working together. However, there were only a few possibilities that made sense with the evidence I had thus far, specifically the degradation of my young Lord's eye. I shook my head at the thought of it. How could I have let that happen? It was obvious I was used to the normalcy routine I had to portray all these years; I was slipping, and it was utterly shameful. And of course, this shame made me want to catch the scum responsible even more. It made me angry. I had too much pride to admit it to anyone but myself, but it made me very angry. Something had obviously been tracking my Master while formulating a detailed, almost undetectable plan, for a long time. Still, that was no excuse.

I continued to mull over my thoughts until quite late. The manor was cleaned thoroughly in the process, and I made my way outside to catch the last bit of nighttime air. I sat on the steps leading to the garden, like always. It was the perfect spot, since I could see the young Lord's bedroom from here, and my favorite visitor was always lurking around the rose bushes. I spotted her easily enough, and it wasn't long until she made her way towards me and I could touch that soft fur of hers.

Ah, cats. So darling. So graceful. I didn't hesitate to remove my gloves, the feeling of her perfectly smooth fur on my fingers an odd comfort. However, I cannot say it was a comfort, because, I doubt I fully understand the feeling. I was not comforted by her, but she did put me at ease. I don't think there's a word for my feeling in the English language, at least, not how I felt it. Regardless, I was enjoying my moment of peace.

The cat (I had refused to name her, lest she suddenly disappear, not like it mattered too much. She was, of course, just an animal and not too important to my existence) mewled at me, little pink nose nudging at my contract marking. I smiled. What an innocent creature.

It was almost six when I decided to check my pocket watch. A bit late to be starting preparations, but I wasn't too concerned. Saturdays were not too busy during the colder months, which left a good amount of time for my Master to heal before heading to the London cemetery tomorrow. I doubted the boy would want to finally face the death of his fiancée - it had been over two months since he had assumed - but once again I was going to have to be the force to push him, and the wall he would inevitably lean on. But I didn't have to worry about it today, and I made my way back inside the manor to start lighting the house for the servants. They had heeded my words last night, for which I was very thankful, so I doubted I would have to wake them myself this morning.

I knew a good breakfast would lift their spirits and distract them from the stress of last night. No doubt they'd have questions, but they had always silenced themselves before, and I hoped that they would continue to do so. I doubted they would want me to fire them, and since to them I was merely one hell of a butler, it was in the realm of their possibilities for me to do so. I assumed a traditional English breakfast would be in order, and no sooner had I cracked the eggs was Finnian first to come running into the kitchen.

"Mr. Sebastian! Good morning!"

Ah, his enthusiasm was always so infecting. "Good morning, Finnian," I smiled, proceeding to crack the egg into the pan. "My, you're up early."

"We all are," he hummed, sitting himself down at the table. "We slept really well!"

I wasn't surprised at his chipperness, or when he stood up again as soon as he finished speaking. Finnian had become prone to wandering as of late, why I wasn't sure, but he didn't seem changed for the worse because of it. I heard him circle the table, then circle it again. And again. He was walking slowly, almost strolling along, and for reasons unknown to myself, it bothered me. I needed to make him do something. I dropped in another egg and turned to face him. "Finnian," I said jovially. "Would you mind setting the table for breakfast? And then check on the others; wake them up in you need to, breakfast will be ready soon." I smiled at him again, in which he smiled back.

"Of course!" He made quick work of the placesettings and scampered off. I sighed. At least I wouldn't have to hear him walking. Though, his desire to please was always reassuring. Despite his many shortcomings, it was easy to depend on him when it mattered. For all our sakes, I hoped it wouldn't be anytime soon. Attacks on the mansion had died down considerably over the years, of which I was not surprised. It seemed most of the criminal underworld had given up; and I was very grateful for it, as it meant less work for me. Cleaning blood off the walkways wasn't as easy as I had hoped. It was also tiresome. And tedious. I was glad I didn't have to do it as often.

Ah, right, breakfast. I attended to the rest simply enough. Though I decided to use up the last of the vegetables so I could have Finnian go into the city and buy fresh ones for the week. By the time the rest of the servants had made their way to the kitchen, I had just removed a skillet of sausage from the stove. They exchanged their pleasantries well enough, and to keep things brief (as, nothing of interest was spoken between us, not even to ask about the young Master's health) I quickly reiterated their tasks for the day, and made my exit to attempt to wake the young Lord.

Of course, I knew better than to think he would wake this early in the morning. It was only seven, and I wasn't surprised to see him deep asleep upon entrance to his room. It was then that I had realized I hadn't even made him breakfast. I was honestly shocked at myself, forgetting such a simple task. But I chuckled to myself regardless; I had been with these humans too long, especially now that I was concerned when I did not fulfill my role. It would only be problematic if the young Lord awoke, but by the way he was sleeping I doubted it possible for at least a few more hours. Ah, the banalities of this modern society. What a chore they were. But I thought no more of it, making sure I was completely silent as I picked out an outfit for my Master; green seemed to be a good color for today, however I retracted the thought as I noticed a black ensemble that the Master hadn't worn recently. It was only a vest and pant set, so he would need a nice shirt, but he had a surplus of those already. I found a tailcoat I remembered Nina making months and months ago, which matched perfectly. A silver ribbon for contrast was really all I needed, which I found quickly and laid the outfit across the back of a chair before I left. The time was five past seven, which gave me ample leisure to tidy up much of the mansion before I would wake my young Master at nine-thirty.

And yet, the façade of normality irked me. It tugged at some part of me that was yearning for something bad to happen. I couldn't place the exact feeling I was enduring, but it seemed that things were going to get worse before they got better. I wondered what today would bring, as the last two days had been taxing on everyone. I hoped that today would run smoothly, as tomorrow would surely not. I did not dare to think of the reactions my young Master might have upon visiting the grave of his beloved (and beloved she was, though he would never admit it). It was not something I was looking forward to, but then again, what could I look forward to? It seemed I was prone to forget that my existence was solely based on devouring this soul, and after that, not much else. I wondered if that would be upsetting to someone else, someone mortal. I felt it strange that I would wish for a "normal" day. I couldn't quite place an example of what I would consider normal, but I felt annoyed at most about these recent events. Or maybe, I was frustrated. I sighed to myself. All these new emotions…I did not like them. I had never felt this much, this long, about one meal in my lengthy existence. Ah but, it didn't matter; I had a long list of tasks to complete, and I aimed to finish them before I had to get my young Master's breakfast started.

Of course, none of that happened. Between trying to tidy the library and dusting the spare rooms, Finnian informed me of a colony of roaches living out by the newly constructed garden fountain, a service man arrived to clean the stove, Mei-Rin broke yet another tea set, Bard almost blew up the dining room for reasons unbeknownst to me, and Tanaka…well, he was fine as always. In effect, I got nothing done in my short time of partial-freedom. Like always. But in the least, I was determined to stick to a schedule today, as it seemed it was the only thing I could keep in control while running this manor.

Luckily, the young Lord had no appointments today, and I assumed he was going to try and spend most of his day in bed. And if he did, I would uncouthly let him. And with that thought in mind I started on his breakfast: a simple plate of three different flavored scones - the last of the raspberries, blueberries and strawberries - and a cup of black tea with added rosehips. My selection of tea sets was dwindling as well, and so I was forced to choose an ever popular golden set by H & R Daniel. It was quite lovely, the orange rims and gilded floral patterns. But before I got carried away with the superb craftsmanship, I readied the cart. I had five minutes to take it up to my young Master's room; plenty of time.

Unfortunately, five minutes was also time enough for me to wonder just what my young Master was going to say this morning. He had fallen asleep without a word, without a glance. I wasn't sure if it was just exhaustion, or if he didn't want to speak to me. My hand tingled at the thought of having the contract broken; a superfluous, premature thought to be sure, but worse case scenarios were inevitable thoughts. If I were to at least seem as smart as I was, I would of course need to put some work into it. Albeit, I confess to being horribly lazy, and mulling over anything would occur when it needed to, and never before. Well, mostly. It helped that I was usually quick on my feet. Regardless, my thoughts still drifted to my dear young Lord. All these years, and I still couldn't predict his moods. I couldn't hypothesize about what mood he'd be in, as I stood outside is bedroom door. How patient would I have to play with him today? There were too many things we needed to discuss, most of which I already knew would not have the chance to escape my lips as a question. It was taxing on my nerves, honestly.

But as I excused myself into his room, and I rolled the tray to the bedside table, I stopped. My young Lord was tangled childishly in the sheets, something I hadn't seen him do before. I wondered if he had had an unpleasant dream during the night. He didn't look too unhappy in his slumber, but with his nightshirt gathered up past mid-thigh exposing his milky-white skin, I could only assume my young Lord was cold. As I passed by the bed, I pulled his pile of blankets up to his elbows and continued over to open the drapes. With a sigh, I said, "Young Master, it is time to wake up," as the light once again streamed through the bedroom windows.


	6. Chapter 6

Silence? I was expecting it. I tied back the drapes; taking no notice of the velvet sheen like every morning. The sunlight was just as bright as always. I turned back to my Master, who had yet to move other than to cover his face with his arm. "Young Master," I reiterated as I made my way back to the service cart. "It really is time to get up." I readied the tea and scones, but he had yet to make a move. I sighed to myself, wondering just how I was going to wake up the young Master. Of course, I had an arsenal of supernatural abilities, but I enjoyed the challenge my young Lord had put before me those years ago. It was a test I preferred; as a creature of habit, breaking my grip over my skills was a refreshing change of pace. However, this morning I was in no mood for games. A quick psychic jolt through the contract and my Master's eyes fluttered open, one exhausted and one still dark and foreboding. "Good Morning, my Lord," I said with a smile. He only frowned at me, yawned and rolled over, covering his face again.

I continued on with my duties. "You have no appointments for the day, sir," I said, pouring him is cup of tea. My young Lord sat up, rubbing his good eye sluggishly.

"Mnh," he murmured, taking the teacup from my fingers and cradling it on his lap. He looked into the caramel surface, but I didn't understand his expression.

"Which means you have plenty of time to recover your strength."

He didn't move, just stared into his reflection. Oh, his _reflection_. I realized he had yet to see what his eye looked like, and the conflicted expression that graced his face held a foreboding I sensed long before he turned to me, eyes almost frantic but a deep scowl on his childish face. He didn't speak, he stared. A stare that caught me off guard; a stare that froze me on spot, one I couldn't think of a retort to. He was angry, afraid, confused, and frustrated. I didn't know what he was going to do, I didn't even know what to say to break the growing silence between us. Was he testing me? Did he want to see what I would do next? Or was he so lost that the shock of his disfigured eye was too much for him to bare this early, this young.

I wanted to speak, but no thoughts came to mind. It was uncanny, the way his stare bore into me, like he was looking right through me; like my Master wasn't my Master. And as the seconds started to tick by, I began to grow worried as the unease that had settled over me. My contract hand twinged; I didn't know what to make of it, or if I could even react to the sharp pains at all. My acknowledgement of distress could not help my young Master currently. But I couldn't stand the silence any longer. "Sir?" I asked softly, letting my concern show. Maybe it would awaken him again, as he had yet to blink, or possibly breathe. "Young Master, what's wrong? Does it hurt? Are you in pain somewhere?" The blank look continued, and a discomfort lodged itself in my stomach. Dread. An unexplainable feeling of dread.

I didn't dare move to touch him, or even test the link between my hand and his dead eye. I desperately wanted to know what he could possibly be seeing, as his eyes had glazed over and he wasn't watching me any longer. But he moved his mouth. Slightly. And then he started speaking in a low whisper, words I hadn't heard in ages. Old Latin from books long forgotten.

My young Master was speaking in tongues.

In fact, from what I could hear that wasn't a mere murmur, he was reciting an old prayer. Backwards. This worried me instantly. I slipped the tea cup out of his little fingers and took him by the shoulders, glaring into his empty eyes as I could feel the aura of _something_ within our contract. I wanted to berate myself for letting my young Master be possessed so easily, but I could tell that there was not something _inside_ him, but something transmitting _through_ him like a needle on a phonograph. I held back a snarl, paying great heed to not grasp Ciel too tightly, lest I injure the poor boy. I leveled my gaze with him, holding him firm and spoke slowly and firmly. "_Carma. Me haut modus ludere."_ I hoped my small display would scare off the presence, yet as Ciel rolled his head to the side and displayed a full smirk at me, that same feeling of dread in the pit of my being seemed to breed rapidly.

Ciel gazed at me with a self-righteous grin, a sickeningly dark expression on those pink lips and youthful face that the young boy wouldn't be able to muster on his own. No, this was something much different. "_Mea, vos estis ineruditum pro pincerna_…" The words rolled out of his mouth naturally, just as sinister as mine. I wasn't dealing with a mere leech of a demon, then, I knew. I was dealing with something much more powerful, something much more willing to toy with me as much as I would have been willing to toy with it, had it not been speaking through my young Master. However, I didn't falter; I wasn't about to show any weakness or emotion to this…this _thing_.

I let my Master go, standing back up to the side of the bed and folding my arms across my chest ever so casually. "Just what, may I ask, do you desire from the young Lord?" I asked, ignoring the insult he had thrown at me, and determined not to act any more concerned than I needed to. I watched as the boy lifted up his finger to his lips with a smile - something I might do, in fact - and closed his eyes. Ciel's entire body went limp, and he wobbled dangerously close to the edge of the bed as I reached out to catch him. At my touch, Ciel immediately grasped at my coat sleeve, seeming too woozy to lift himself up. I knew he was himself, the wisp of a scent of whatever had been speaking through him dispersed. "Young Master?"

Ciel opened his eyes slowly, confusion blanketing his features. He looked up at me, dazed. "What happened?" At the sound of his own voice he flinched and reached up a hand to rub his head.

I settled the boy back into bed, where he sat without much of a word or another look at me. Assured that he wasn't going to fall over again, I sighed. There was no point in hiding this event from him. I would have to tell him the truth. "It seems you dozed off my Lord. What have I told you about staying up late?" _What_ had I _just_ been thinking to myself? I surprised myself with the half truth that easily escaped my mouth. It seems as though I am used to lying more than I had thought. Ciel did not look pleased with my answer, but as he rubbed his head and then his good eye, he didn't question me. In fact, he sighed and laid himself back in the blankets.

"Sebastian, I'm tired. I want to rest for a while."

I gave him a half smile, not sure if I was willing to let him sleep now. Though I had no reason yet as to concern myself too greatly with it, I couldn't ignore the feeling of apprehension. Of course I would be able to handle whatever might surface in my Master's body while he slept, but I wasn't keen on it. In fact, I wasn't keen on baby sitting the soon-to-be-sleeping child at all. However, he yawned, and as keeping up his health was part of my station, I said, "shall I close the curtains my Lord?"

"Yes," was Ciel's curt answer as he pulled his linens up to his head and cocooned himself inside. I did so quickly, and gathered up the scones that hadn't been touched, and his cup of tea. However, as I was arranging the service cart for my departure, I heard him sigh and whisper my name. It was weak, a little mewl of a sound. It was honestly quite adorable, and it stopped me in my tracks long enough to turn around to him.

"My Lord?"

He sighed again, and I hesitated, hoping he would offer me a complete thought, instead of just my name in a whimper. It took a moment, but he unraveled his head from the bed sheets and looked at me, a stern yet innocent meekness in his solemn expression. "Don't leave," he sighed, half a whisper once again. "Don't leave until I fall asleep."

"But sir," I started, a wry smile on my lips. "It's only just morning. You can't possibly be afraid of this dim room?"

My young Master was not amused. I could smell the anger bubbling up inside of him, but it faded as soon as I had caught it. He narrowed his eyes at me, still nestled so fondly in the pillows, and scoffed. "Just stay," was his command.

I placed my hand over my chest and bowed with a smile. "Yes, my Lord."

My young Master gave me another hard look then rolled over, curling up under his covers and seemingly falling asleep. But he didn't. I can't imagine how long I stood there, by his side, waiting for the inevitable slew of questions that would spring forth. I knew Ciel was thinking, debating on if he would interrogate me now or later. I also knew he was tired, and angry, and anxious about his visit to London tomorrow. I had to finish my preparations for the trip - getting the servants squared away, choosing a carriage, preparing my young Master's attire, buying ample amounts of flowers - but if Ciel wanted me by his bedside for now, I hoped, oddly, that it would keep him content enough that he wouldn't bother me later when the real work was to be done. I couldn't tell if it was compassion I was feeling for the child, or if I was just very hungry, and doing what was necessary. I assumed I would grow to find interest in the boy after the first year, but I also was keen to keep my distance, mostly because I was in fact going to kill him some day. I may be a demon, but I do have a few morals, and growing attached to my prey would lead to disaster. More for him than for me, but disaster nonetheless.

I did not want to be close to my young Master, but as a butler for the Phantomhive family, it seemed completely necessary of me to do so. The more I let my thoughts wander on the subject, the more I realized how complicated it would be for me to rid ourselves of this new threat to my young Master. If I was not close to him, he would not trust me, and if he did not trust me, I could not get the soul I so hungered for. But then, a thought. Was this hunger I was feeling?

I laughed at myself. Of course it was. What else could it be? I prided myself on knowing how to differentiate between the few "human" emotions I could place, act, and convince others I had. I also prided myself on knowing exactly what I was doing on most occasions, and knowing exactly how to get there. Regardless of my young Lord's whims, I thought I did a very fastidious job of living up to my own standards - which were, unsurprisingly, higher than most of my kin's - regardless of if I was one of the few whom had been in contract for this lengthy amount of time. At this point, I didn't see it being relevant. And thankfully - because a thoughtful demon isn't much use if he thinks _too_ much - my thoughts were interrupted by Ciel.

"Sebastian," he finally stated, seeming to have some to the conclusion to speak with me.

"My Lord?"

"We have much to discuss."

"As you wish." I suppressed a smile; it would be inappropriate at this point in time, but his initiative amused me. I watched him sit up in bed and turn to look at me. "What would you like to discuss?"

"My eye. What's wrong with it?"

Ah, that sternness again. I doubted my answer would please him. "My Lord?"

"Sebastian," he scowled at me, clenching his little hands in the sheets. "What happened to my eye? Why does it look as it does?" And here, I hesitated. What was I going to tell the young Master? That I had no answer, or that my theories revolved around the one experience he was determined to forget? I knew I had to formulate some truth for him quickly, or this discussion could easily turn into an interrogation of my nature, which would be difficult to elude. "_Sebastian_, I order yo-"

"My Lord," I interrupted. I did not want him to place an order on me now. "You're impatience is understandable, but please be a little more reasonable." I faked my disapproval. "As I told you last night, there is some supernatural entity at work, however, I feel that-"

"Sebastian," my young Master interrupted coldly. "You should have known this was coming." _What_? I almost scoffed. What did this child know? "It is your job to _protect_ me, to keep me alive until we have completed the contract!" I mentally flinched at his shout. Was this fear? I couldn't yet place the smell.

"Sir, you are quite alive."

"Don't toy with me Sebastian. I'm sick of your secrets; how can I trust a butler who can't protect his master?" Ciel's voice had lowered, a sinister tone seeped through. I narrowed my eyes but did not speak. "Why should I trust you now, _demon_?"

Inwardly, I bristled. It was not often that I wished to harm my young Master, but in my current situation I could only fantasize about snapping his neck, contract be damned. I would get his soul regardless, and I doubt I would suffer any shame or regret from doing so. But I stilled my thoughts. I would have to be careful here, lest I potentially drive the child away. "My Lord," I smiled, though I knew it was sinister. "I must say I have protected you quite well up until now. In fact, I have protected you in more ways than you could _possibly _imagine." I aimed to stay calm. I would not yell at him. "Sir, I apologize for being so frank, but considering your lackluster knowledge of the occult and the entities and beings of which I associate, you know _nothing_ of what I _should_ have seen coming." I looked him squarely in the eye now, mentally daring him to make a snide remark. "In fact, there are many, _many_ more powerful, secretive, despicable beings than I, my Lord. If I weren't a demon, I would advise you to count your blessings; you could have ended up with someone much less understanding, less _patient _than I. I would dare say you can consider yourself lucky that you have something as devoted as I as your butler."

Ciel did not speak; he glared at me, but kept that enticing mouth of his tightly closed. In my anger, I felt a spur of desire. This child, he consistently awakened the demon inside of me. What was I to do with him now? I watched as Ciel thought, a range of emotions seeming to flicker in his eye. "A _demon_ butler," he mentioned off-handedly. "What kind of demon _are_ you? I may not know from what you came, but I think it would be safe to assume you have the ability to recognize your own _kin_, am I correct?" Ciel smirked at me then, obviously thinking he had insulted me. I smiled back.

"No more than you can detect your own species, my Lord." His smirk disappeared. "You forget that _you_ are the supernatural being in _my_ world, young Master. Other demons are part of my normal existence." Ah, I had managed. Ciel looked at me, annoyance obvious on his young face, but he seemed not to have a reply to my explanation. But as he seemed not able to blame me - at least, not as much as previously - for my failure to keep his eye from being affected, I could try and apologize. "However, I am sorry that I could not stop this from happening my Lord." I bent down in a bow. "It is absolutely disgraceful of me, and I am ashamed as a Phantomhive butler." And then I looked up, smiling at him charmingly. "But rest assured I will now keep a close eye on any suspicions I may have, and I will keep anything more from harming you, young Master."

"Che." Ciel turned away then, folding his arms across his chest. I chuckled but said nothing, straightening. It took a moment of silence before Ciel spoke again. "Absolutely despicable." He turned back to me, a smirk on the curve of his lips. "Regardless. How do you plan to stop this, Sebastian."

I placed a finger up to my temple in mock thought. I knew this question would be coming soon, and there was no half-truth I could tell Ciel now. I would, in fact, have to be completely honest. "That remains to be seen, my Lord. As I do not known much about the being that is affecting you, there are a lot of possible reactions that could be appropriate. Unfortunately, I find most of them would be a tremendous waste of our time."

Ciel raised an eyebrow. "Then, what _do_ you know?"

I smiled. "Nothing that would be helpful to divulge to my young Master and have him understand it."

Ciel scowled. "Right, you're probably correct."

"Indeed."

He sighed then and gave me an exasperated glance. "Then, what can you tell me that _will_ make sense?" He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his nimble fingers, secreting the sweetly-bitter, lingering scent of stress.

"Well," I started, speaking slowly more to tease him than because it was necessary. "I do know that your eye has been perfectly preserved." I paused. Would he be able to accept that his eye was currently dead? "The contract is still in place, so that is nothing to be concerned with." Ciel seemed to freeze. I continued to speak before he could open his mouth to question me. "I'm sorry to say, young Master, that your right eye is, for all intents and purposes, dead." I watched as his body went rigid, as he looked at me in confusion and terror, as his brought his hand up to his right eye. It trembled. And so did his mouth as he opened it to speak.

"Dead?" The waver was pathetically adorable.

"Yessir." I bowed again. "I am sorry."

"No," Ciel whispered. I looked up to see him shaking his head, both hands now clenching at the linens. I couldn't tell if he was on the verge of a tantrum or some sort of dire mental problem. "No," he said again, louder. "No, it can't be! Sebastian!" I studied his face, that look of confusion I was very used to seeing. "It's not dead, it can't be."

"My Lord, I am so-"

"No!" His shout was frantic. I didn't understand why he was so scared so suddenly. "Listen, Sebastian, I can still see!"

Honestly, I was shocked. "See?" I reiterated. How was that possible? His eye was completely, irrevocably, dead. "What do you see?" This caused me greater concern. A dead eye was a dead eye, but I had no explanation for how he could see from it. Yes, I had healed it, yes, I had tried to make it better, but it was dead long before I had arrived to help my young Master. I remembered how he told me he couldn't see before, so why could he see now? What could he possibly be seeing?

Ciel trembled in front of me then, seemingly collapsing in on himself as he had done only a few times before. He wrapped his arms around his knobby little knees and buried his face. He reminded me of a wounded animal, trying to take up as little space as possible. "I see…things. Memories. Horrible things." He continued to shake. "Sebastian," he whimpered, "what is happening to me?"

I took a step closer to his bed. Then another. His trembling form was too much. His scent, his vulnerability. I wanted him then, though I knew better than to take him. I directed my thoughts to this new development. "I don't know my Lord," I said as apologetically as I could muster. "But I intend to find out."

_A/N: I don't really like adding these little notes into my stories, but I just wanted to tell all my readers that I love you guys for reading this, and please don't forget to check my profile, because I put updates there! Just a heads up! Thank you guys for reading SO MUCH!_


	7. Chapter 7

"Young Master, you've received a letter."

A letter? At this late an hour? It was almost dark; why would someone bother to come this far this late? I looked up from the never-ending pile of papers on my desk. I had finally soothed the latest anxieties of the Queen, but my report was only half written and I was exhausted. And then there were the Funtom reports, and the ledgers (which Sebastian did, but I was determined to start looking them over as I _am_ the head of the Phantomhive family), not to mention the other various letters from acquaintances and start-of-the-season party invitations. And _homework_. It was barely July yet my desk was too crowded, why would I want another piece of stupid paper? "Who's it from, Sebastian?"

My butler came up to my desk. "It doesn't say," he said off-handedly, extending his hand to show me the letter with a generic seal on the back.

"Useless." Who besides some stupid criminal doesn't use a recognizable seal? Even the poorly thought out ransom notes I had received in the past had some kind of seal on it. But I still picked it up, then dropped it on my stack of pages and went back to writing my report. "I'll look at it later. I'm much too busy for such nonsense."

"Are you sure, my Lord?"

I looked up again. What the hell was he questioning me for? "Of course I'm sure!" I shouted without meaning too. I was too damn tired for him to mess with me. "The Queen always comes first."

"Of course, my Lord."

I sighed and set down my pen, rubbing my forehead. It was hot. I was hot and annoyed and I didn't feel like taking on all the tasks in front of me. I wanted to go to sleep, to be honest, but there were just too many things I wouldn't want to face in the morning. I had to do this. As the last head of the Phantomhive family, I had to do this.

But, oddly enough, my thoughts drifted to Elizabeth. It had been a while since I had seen her. Actually, not since she made one of her famous surprise visits and she broke my ring. I still didn't hold that day very fondly in my memory, moreso because of my own reactions, instead of hers. I would never admit it to anyone but myself, but I was ashamed I had let my anger get the best of me. Elizabeth did not deserve my spite or hatred, ignorant of the fact that she annoyed me more than amused me. I wanted to love Elizabeth, my fiancée, but I knew better than to hold her in any high regard. There was no possible way for us to get married. I couldn't make her happy. I couldn't even pass on my estate to her, because I was going to cut my own life short, very short. And I didn't want her involved. I didn't want her innocence corrupted like mine. Elizabeth, annoying as she may be, was the only beacon of light I had left. I had made a promise to myself long ago that I would not blow her out. She needed to shine brightly, and I hoped she would after my death (not like I cared, because what could I do after that?).

I sighed again. What was I daydreaming for? I had work to do. Sebastian was looking at me funny, and I glared at him once. He just smiled and looked like he was about to excuse himself until I cleared my throat. "Open a window, it's getting hot in here."

"Yes, my Lord."

I watched him (warily, I might add) walk around my desk before I turned my attention back to my work. I couldn't concentrate now; Sebastian always had this presence I couldn't describe, and it sometimes seemed to put my mind elsewhere. Of course, I always ignored it, but it was very strong today, and my report seemed too daunting to finish now. I leafed through a few pages on my desk, trying to ignore my urge to open the letter I had just received, but my curiosity was growing. I couldn't help myself. But after the speech I made, I almost didn't want to open it. Still, the letter was calling to me, and I picked it up casually and popped off the wax, unfolding it.

At first, I was irked. The handwriting was barely legible; it looked like a hastily written note. There was no care taken at all, until I glanced down at the signature.

"Middleford."

"What was that, young Master?"

I was about to speak, but I noticed something else. It was like the heat in the room was suddenly sucked out through the opened window; even the faint evening breeze was chilling. My blood ran cold. I couldn't breathe. "Elizabeth. Kidnapped." I was standing before I could even register moving. W-what was I going to do? I had to find her, I knew I had to find her, but how? How could this happen? She couldn't just disappear, right? I mean, she was practically royalty, her family consisted of the best swordsmen in England; how could she be _taken_? Where were they going to take her to? Was it even a they? Or just one? No, one person couldn't kidnap a Middleford. Oh god what if they _killed_ her? Was she going to be used as ransom? Then for what ? Drugs? Money? Was this an attack on the Funtom company? The Phantomhive name? The Middlefords?

Sebastian placed his hand on my shoulder; I realized my fists were tight, my teeth clenched, so tense I was shaking, the letter crumpled in my hand. But Sebastian. Just his touch, and somehow I felt…not better. Not even calmer. But lucid. My head was just noticeably more clear. I needed to calm myself down, I needed to be reasonable. Diplomatic. I couldn't get my emotions involved in this, not right now. "Young Master?" Sebastian's voice. I hated to admit it but it calmed me down. He soothed me. It was so smooth, it actually reminded me of chocolate. I was ashamed of the thought. Ugh, how childish. It was such a stupid association. "What's wrong?"

He stepped in front of me. I looked up at him, still trembling. "Elizabeth has been kidnapped," I said darkly. "My _fiancée_," I got louder, slamming my fist on the desk. "Has been _kidnapped_ Sebastian!" I couldn't wrap my head around it, not yet.

But Sebastian, he was quiet. Completely calm. He looked down at me, a look on his face I couldn't understand. I assumed it was pity, and it made me angry. All of this made me angry. I was about to open my mouth to start yelling at him, but Sebastian just _smiled_ at me and slipped the letter from out of my clenched fist. The gall of this demon, I swear! He seemed to be reading the letter, which was only a couple of words to begin with, but he was taking too long. I scowled. What could he possibly be doing?

"Sebastian."

He was quiet a few more seconds, driving me absolutely mad. How could he be so damn calm at a time like this? "My Lord," he finally spoke and I seethed. More calm. He actually sounded _bored_. "I don't think there's much we can do." He placed the piece of paper down and once again looked down at me. "Unfortunately, this letter is of no help to us."

"No _hel_-"

"Young Master," I held my tongue, clenching my jaw in an effort to stay silent. "Please think about this for a moment. How can we tell this is a letter from the Middlefords? It doesn't bear their seal, it was horribly written, and the signature is dubious at best."

No, what was he saying? "Sebastian, what are you _saying_? I don't care if this is some kind of _joke_! We have to go check on Elizabeth, I _need_ to know she's alright."

"Indeed, my Lord. But this could very well be a trap."

"A…trap?"

Sebastian smirked at me. "My Lord, you do know how traps work, don't you?"

I sighed, collapsing back into my chair. He could be right. This entire letter could be a farce. I may have realized it eventually, but…. "Of course I do." This was very irritating. I wanted to be level headed; I couldn't be swept away by my emotions like this. I crossed my legs and settled back into my chair. "So what do you propose?" There. This was business now. Elizabeth could not be saved, if she was indeed in danger, by a sniffling little brat.

"My Lord, I would like to visit the Middleford estate myself. You will stay here with the servants, who I will give strict instruction to protect you with their lives."

I frowned. The servants protect me? I scoffed. They could barely keep from tripping over their own feet, how could I let them protect me? "Sebastian, that's a horrible plan."

My butler looked down at me, obviously faking being insulted. "Harsh words young Master." His expression evened out. "May I ask why?"

I smirked. "No." Then I crossed my arms. I did not trust any of them. Well, no, I had some faith in Sebastian, but I wanted to see Elizabeth with my own eyes. It was the only way I could be at ease with this situation. "I am going with you. I want to see Elizabeth with my own eyes."

"And what if she's gone?"

I frowned. "I want to be sure." I looked up at my butler, ready to fight him if I needed to, but the look on his face, the slight amusement and hint of pity proved I wouldn't have to. If this demon was going to be amused by my misfortune, so be it. I didn't care, so long as Elizabeth was safe. I stood, trying to level myself with Sebastian, despite his towering height. I glared up at him. "Do you understand?" He looked at me, smiled, and bowed, kneeling on one knee, finally lower than me.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Good. We're leaving now."

Sebastian stood, still looking amused. "Would you like your coat, Master?"

I didn't have the patience for whatever game he was trying to play; it was _hot_. "No, we're leaving _now_."

"Of course. If you'll excuse me." Suddenly I was off the ground. I knew to have expected him to carry me, but I was always unnerved whenever my feet left the ground. "Hold on tight, my Lord." And I did just that. I didn't expect to ever get used to this demon's power. I had always tried to remind myself that Sebastian did, in fact, have the power, skill and desire to kill me whenever he wanted, but it was becoming harder now, especially when he took such care to hold me gently in his grasp. He could crush a man with two fingers, but he held me, as we fell from the window of my study, with more care than some precious heirloom. Was it normal to feel safe in the arms of a demon? I could barely remember the feeling of my parent's embrace, any embrace, but in Sebastian's arms, I don't think I could forget it. It was exciting, fascinating and terrifying all at once, and I didn't want it to stop.

Sebastian made quick work of the many miles that separated me from my fiancée. I had kept my eyes closed, my grasp tight around Sebastian's neck, the speed sickening to my stomach. However, as we slowed, my butler did not place me on the ground. His arms tightened their grasp on me, and I couldn't help but shudder at the implications that movement could have. "Sebastian," I whispered, trying to make out the shapes in the darkness, but he ignored me, eyes focused ahead of us. It scared me, his intense focus.

"Oh, it is nothing," he finally mentioned after coming to a stop just beyond the trees surrounding the estate. I tried to make out his face in the darkness. He looked down at me and smiled impishly. I sighed.

I didn't know what to expect as he strolled along the lawn towards the darkened Middleford manor. Would Elizabeth be asleep in her bed? Auntie and Edward and everyone else asleep, safe and sound? Or maybe they weren't here at all, but in London for a while. Of course I would have Sebastian check there as well if the manor was empty. But, as we rounded about the gardens, I saw a singular light high up, flickering. My grasp on Sebastian tightened; I couldn't help it. I almost didn't want to see the contents of that room. Yet my butler was eager to do so, as he didn't even ask if we should proceed (or maybe he did, but I was too lost in my thoughts to notice. I could have sworn he said _something_, but I couldn't recall what it was), and scaled the distance between the third floor and us in two smooth jumps. He had repositioned me into one arm along the way, the other keeping leverage on our position right below the window of the occupied room.

"Young Master," Sebastian whispered to me, a placating concern smoothing out his voice. "Would you like me to look?" I shook my head. This was my business, not his. I could see the slight frown which formed on his face, but it was too late. I was already reaching up to the window ledge and pulling myself out of my butler's firm grasp to peek above it.

Like some kind of criminal.

I almost wanted to feel ashamed by my actions, however, I knew that if Elizabeth had indeed been taken, I wouldn't want to find out tomorrow morning by making a trip here instead. Kidnappings were delicate cases, and if Elizabeth really was gone, then we needed all the extra time we could get. I could always visit in the morning, pretend to get all the information I needed, and begin my search. But, I was distracting myself. Taking a breath to ready myself for whatever lay beyond this window, I pulled myself up just enough to peek through.

It was Elizabeth's room, obviously. The vast amounts of pink and animal décor made that blatantly obvious. But her bed was empty.

No, not empty. Aunt Frances lay there, clutching at the sheets. What was she…?

My hands began to shake. I couldn't support myself any longer. The ledge slipped from my grasp and I found myself back in the arms of my butler. I didn't see his face, all I saw was the woman crying on the bed of my fiancée, clutching a letter in her hand. The candle that was still flickering on her side table barely a nub. It would go out soon.

No.

Elizabeth was gone.

I don't know if I cried. I don't even remember if I slept that night after we returned. Shock had soon been replaced by anger, and I made it my duty to make a formal visit to the estate the very next morning. I didn't know how to act. Should I be a concerned fiancé? Or should I be the head of the Phantomhive family? I couldn't be both; I didn't understand what both would require of me. But I was quiet the entire carriage ride, Sebastian only looking solemnly across from me. I didn't have the strength to question him. It was all a blur. I had only been thinking of Elizabeth hours ago. Thinking of her happiness, determined to keep her from the evils of my world. And now she was gone. Sucked up into the filthy underbelly of my family name. It was the only explanation that made sense. Someone wanted something from me, and was going to use Elizabeth to get it. I couldn't stand it; the idea made me sick to my stomach. I wanted to order Sebastian to kill every criminal on sight, regardless of their crimes, until we found her. I wanted to kill a few of them myself. I wanted to raid every opium den, every tavern, every hideout, every _home_ until I saw those green eyes again. I couldn't lose her, I couldn't. I wouldn't.

But, my visit wasn't very fruitful. Auntie was stern as always, but obviously upset by the faint rim of tears in her eyes. Edward did not speak, and Uncle was the one to tell me of the letter that was left on Elizabeth's bed. I pretended to read it, then handed it off to Sebastian so he could make quick work of it, though I made sure we gave the entire manor a look over as well, especially Elizabeth's room.

There were no signs of forced entry, no struggle, no evidence, nothing. Auntie mentioned a family visitor who had left that afternoon after a short visit, but she did not leave any gifts or forgot any of her belongings. There was nothing. Even Sebastian couldn't find anything amiss, and it made my blood boil.

"Don't worry," I told all of them, stoic and probably foreboding. "I will find Elizabeth." We left. I didn't want to leave, but there was nothing for either of us, and I couldn't think of a single thing to say as we rode home. Sebastian looked over the letter time and time again, but I made sure to make it clear that I didn't want to know anything about it. Not yet. If he had any suspicions, he was to follow them. But, nothing. We were both outwitted, and I didn't like how it felt _at all_. "Sebastian," I said wearily, partly falling asleep as the carriage rattled on.

"Yes, young Master?"

"I don't like this."

"Nor I."

"How," I sighed. "How could we be outwitted like this?"

"I wouldn't call this outwitted, young Master. I think we have been out-played."

"Huh?" I was too tired to guess at what he was getting at. I still had a report to finish, and another stack of documents that needed my signature just waiting for me at the manor. I didn't want to play games.

"My Lord, there was no evidence, not even a single hair. This was not a game of wit, but a game of skill, and there had to be multiple players for this high level of skill to be achieved."

I hummed. So there was a group of people maybe? All skilled kidnappers. This didn't look well for Elizabeth. "So, how are we going to oppose an opponent that is not only many in number, but completely invisible?" I couldn't help the negativity that was washing over me. Suddenly, I didn't feel too well.

"Well, young Master," Sebastian gave me one of his devilish smirks, though for a moment I was sure it didn't reach those red eyes of his. "No one is ever _completely_ invisible."

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "What do you mean?" I was getting highly irritated. This butler, couldn't he just be forthright and explain himself?

He chuckled at me. "Only that there must be evidence somewhere. May I suggest I take on the task of checking the Middleford grounds for footprints?"

I waved my hand. "Sure, fine, whatever you want." Why was he asking when I had already told him to do as he pleases? I don't think I could of frowned any deeper. If word got out my fiancée was kidnapped…well, there were bound to be rumors. And if this got back to the Queen, she may not think as highly of me as she used to. London would be abuzz…

_ London_.

Of course!

If these criminals were as vain as I hoped, London would surely hear about it! Who could resist gloating over the fact that they had captured a Middleford? From her home no less. But it could take time - time we did not have - for rumors to spread. And what if the kidnappers weren't going to London? We would still have to check. It could still be a possibility. "Sebastian, we need to go to London. Tell no one."

He looked at me, not at all confused, like he had read my mind. I gave him a glance, and he smiled and said, "of course, my young Master."

I nodded, just as the carriage finally arrived back at my manor. "You know what you have to do," I said, getting out. I didn't have the patience for someone to open the door. My feet on the ground, I didn't even wait to see if Sebastian was following me. "And bring my lunch to the study!" I didn't even turn around. I wanted to at least finish the Queen's report before I left, and maybe sign most of the documents. The kidnapping letter would have to wait (I still felt sick every time I thought about it), I was going to be much too busy.

Tanaka already had the front door open for me, and I walked right in, being greeted with a "welcome home young Master" by my servants. I acknowledged them, but continued on my way. I was uneasy. Was it safe for them here, now? If Elizabeth could be so easily captured, what about me? What about them? Would Sebastian be able to protect all of us? I sighed as I reached my study, dropping my coat, hat, and cane on the chair by the door as I walked past. I didn't want to think about it. My safety…well, Sebastian would take every measure possible to ascertain my well-being, and he claimed my servants knew how to take care of themselves, but I found it hard to believe.

I fell into my chair, spotting Lady Middleford's hastily written note to me, crumpled up where Sebastian had left it last night. I yawned. I should have slept instead of pacing my room until dawn. I had been so worked up I could hardly speak. But I couldn't think about that now. I had to finish this report and mail it off or else it would continue to bother me. I couldn't keep the Queen waiting. I was too thoroughly trained to do something like that. Though, I could barely focus. I tried to write hastily, taking care my handwriting was still legible, but it wasn't the best report I had ever written. Whatever. I set down my pen as I waited for the ink to dry, and rummaged around my drawers for my sealing wax. They were a mess, and it took me much longer than I would have liked to find it. When I looked up, Sebastian was just coming through the door.

"Excuse me, my Lord."

"Yes, come in." Since he was here, he might as well post this letter for me. Sebastian started rambling about whatever tea he had prepared, and what I was to eat for lunch, but I just looked at him idly as he poured me a cup and I took it. "Have you finished packing all my things?" I asked, swirling the tea in the cup before taking a sip. Hmph, it was some boring black tea with floral hints.

"Yes, my Lord."

"And had the servants settled?"

"Of course."

"The carriage is ready?"

"Indeed."

"Good." I set my cup down as I picked up my report and handed it over to my butler. "Post this for me." I gave him the wax too, and my signet ring.

"Yes, sir." He placed a plate on the now empty spot on my desk. Tea sandwiches and fruit. Hm. "I know how long carriage rides upset your stomach, my Lord. So I decided to keep lunch light today. I'll prepare you a hearty dinner when we arrive in London." I couldn't complain, not really. He was right.

"Fine, you can go." Sebastian excused himself with a bow. I watched him go. Demons. Such despicable creatures. Doing all this only for a measly meal. For a moment, I entertained the idea of how old he was. When was his last meal? Just how hungry was he? I took another sip of my tea. It didn't matter. He was bound to me until the contract was complete. And I would complete it. I had given my word…so easily. I would find out on my own soon enough.


	8. Chapter 8

Ciel looked at me, eyes wide. "How can you find out? You just said-"

"My Lord," I interrupted, mildly peeved that I hadn't called him out on his lie the day before. I smiled at him then, making sure I didn't move another inch just in case I lost what little composure I was holding on to. "If I couldn't do this for my Master, what kind of butler would I be?"

I would find what had stolen his eye from me; I would find this _thing_ and make it pay. Watch it writhe in my grasp if I must. I could already smell the musty scent of spilled blood, it's agonizing moans, my desire to rip it apart. Ah, how long it has been since I murdered something, since I killed just for sport and reveled as it died.

Ciel scoffed, redirecting my thoughts. Ah.

"That's not funny, Sebastian," he sighed, burying his face in his knees once more. I could tell I had exhausted him; it would probably be best if he slept for now.

I smiled, regardless of if he would see it. "I apologize." Ciel did not move, did not speak. He didn't acknowledge me, so I took his well-being into my own hands, as the child seemed unable to realize he would need rest for the events he would have to face later today. "Young Master," I finally cooed, trying to settle the shaking of his shoulders. "You should get some rest now; you will need your strength." I held back a biting insult for what little strength he had to begin with and smiled as apologetically as I could.

"Yes," he finally murmured, uncurling himself slowly. I waited as he laid himself back into the pillows, and I pulled his layers of blankets up to his shoulders. "Sebastian."

"Yes, my Lord?"

"I'm leaving this to you. Do _not_ mess this up."

"Of course, my Lord. Your health is of my utmost concern as your butler." I smiled, but Ciel looked at me with a look of disbelief. In honest, that look, the turmoil in his eye, it made me concerned. Ciel's trust in me was wavering. I could not let that happen; it was happening much too quickly. I had too much to risk for this soul, too much to risk that I would _gladly_ accept if that made Ciel's soul a guarantee. Alas, this was not the case. I turned to leave, but once again I heard the sheets ruffle.

"Don't go," he sighed.

I turned back to him and bowed. "Of course, my Lord."

Thankfully, Ciel drifted off to sleep soon after, and I had time to remove my service cart and start gathering the preparations for our visit to the cemetery today. I hoped the young Master would be able to handle it. I could still remember how he trembled at Madam Red's funeral. How he grasped his cane with a white-knuckled grip. The underlying fear in his voice, even as he berated humankind. Ah, my dear young Master had a lot to be dealt with now.

And so did I. Ordering the flowers was first on my list, as the florist had finally opened, and I was going to have to pay extra to get a suitable bouquet completed in such a short amount of time. I, of course, could not make one in this weather, so calling one of the finest florists in London was the next best option. It was a long phone call - as the fellow who answered had quite a bad stutter, and seemed unable to understand my desire to have the arrangement ready to be picked up by this afternoon, instead of the next morning - however by the time I placed the receiver back in its cradle I had ordered quite a large bouquet of lilacs, asters, baby's breath and rain flowers, all in a glorious white hue. I even offered to pay double the amount to make it perfectly clear that I expected perfect flowers when I arrived to pick them up. I knew Ciel would not know the significance of the flowers I bought for him, but the rest of society did. That was good enough. Someone had to salvage his reputation, considering my young Master was currently incapable of even staying awake.

And then of course I had to have the carriage brought around, and it wasn't long before the servants voiced their desires to accompany us on our journey. I contemplated making a suitable lunch for the young Master, but I already knew he wasn't going to eat before we headed to London, and I doubted greatly that he would be willing once we returned. I decided it would be best to bring something regardless, as we would be staying overnight in London as well - for the sake of my Master's aversion to lengthy carriage rides - and hoped the servants would be on their best behavior. I would have preferred not to leave the manor unattended, but I knew the respect most lower-class held for the dead, and their fear of ghosts haunting them for not paying proper respects - as if the souls of the dead would bother - so I had no choice but to let them come along.

However, there were still chores that had to be finished before we left, and I instructed the four of them to finish up as quickly as they could so that we could adhere to the schedule. Even though I had long since disposed of the actual schedule (it is an easy task to prioritize the runnings of the manor mentally), Tanaka was the only one who had seemed to notice, and I aimed to keep it that way.

Thankfully, my trust in them to find proper attire for the visit was well rewarded, as all four servants dressed quickly. We had purchased a few different mourning outfits for everyone, in my own attempt to keep up with the potential deaths and inevitable funerals we could possibly attend. In all honesty, I didn't understand the requirement, however, black was very appealing on humans and I had no logical complaint. The estate wasn't short of money. Or "family" friends and acquaintances. Society would dictate it mandatory. So be it.

Regardless, two hours had passed and it was almost noon, so I had to wake up the little Lord and convince him that going to London was necessary. But as I called to him, he ignored me in his slumber. I took the opportunity to pick out his suitable black attire and stood again by the side of the bed. "Young Master," I cooed, tempted to grab his feeble little shoulder. "It really is time to wake up. We need to get going."

Little Ciel muttered, but did not stir. In fact, he pulled his covers over his head. I sighed to myself and walked around the bed. We did not have time for this. The ride to London was a tediously long one; we wouldn't make it to the cemetery in a reasonable time if he did not wake soon. I opened the curtains for the second time today, taking note of the rising sun, and the heat radiating from the dark velvet curtains. I heard the young Earl mumble and rustle the bed linens; I watched as he rolled over and then sat up. He rubbed his eyes, sighed and looked right at me. "I don't want to go." He said stubbornly, firm.

I raised my eyebrow. "Don't want to go?"

"No." He folded his arms, seeming to try and instill an air of regality. Was he trying to defy me? "Let me rephrase. I am _not_ going."

Ah, so he was going to try and fight me on it. This temper of his, I was growing weary of it. Especially when it was directed at me. I took a step closer to the bed. I noticed Ciel's wary gaze, and I smiled as to set him at ease. But I was far from jovial to have to deal with his increasing stubbornness. "Young Master," I leaned over to him. "This is not under discussion." I continued to smile, but Ciel shot me a burning glare. It seemed he had regained the minor motor functions from his right eye, as it swiveled in its socket to observe me as well. In fact, it was rather eerie.

"I don't care," was his quick reply. "I'm not going. I don't want to."

"Now, young Master," I cooed, standing up again and walking around the bed, taking the clothes I had laid out for the boy in my arms as I passed. "I think we had this discussion before. This is a necessary trip." I stopped in front of him. Oh, how I longed to grab that pale neck that was exposed to me. How I longed to sink my teeth into the soft flesh, hear the strangled cries coming from that lovely mouth. Inwardly, I sighed. This was surely not the time.

Suddenly, a guttural noise emitted from the little Earl, catching my immediate attention. Ciel turned away as quickly as it had come - a growl, I realized - and proceeded to pile all the covers over himself, including the pillows. I blinked. How childish. Was I going to have to dig him from the bed? But the thought of touching him set me on edge. That milky skin beneath my fingers, the warmth of the blood pulsing through his many veins, the arteries. The bruises I could inflict, the rushes of blood, the shattered bones and the undeniable hunger that erupted inside me. He smelled so good. So damn good. It wasn't hard to imagine his small body beneath mine, pulsating with fear, seeping that tantalizing scent. The look of horror on his face, the freedom of shedding this human skin. Ah, the terror he would be sure to feel if he were to witness it. If I had been more self aware, I would have suppressed my chuckle. But it was too late, and I immediately caught the scent of anger from my young Lord. He thought I was laughing at him. Well, I probably would have if I had noticed him. I suddenly felt very, very hot and irritated. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples with a free hand. Ciel spoke up, muffled from all the linens. "I'm _not_ going."

I didn't have the patience for this. "Young Master," I said, starting by placing the clothes in my arms on the bedside table and beginning to toss the pillows to the floor. "We do not have time for this."

"I don't care!"

"Sir, we have to go." I spoke loud, firm. But I was distracted. Playing tug of war with the bed sheets was setting off alarm bells inside me. Instincts were flaring. I was tempted to tear the bed apart to find my prey. Then I stifled the thought, as it was irritating, and I was irritated enough.

"No! You can't make me!"

_Oh_, that was enough. I already knew I couldn't fathom what was going through the mind of my dear Master, but it didn't matter anymore. He was being beyond unreasonable. I took a large grasp on the top layer of the duvet, and in one swift movement removed it from the bed. It wasn't hard to find Ciel's outline in the remaining covers. I ignored his outbursts, the little hands that were fighting against mine, the body that continued to struggle. I grabbed Ciel by the arm and pulled him from the bed, hearing his insults and cursing but ignoring them entirely. In fact, when he seemed to calm down, I smiled at him and said, "my my young Master, what a tantrum you're throwing."

"Shut up!" Ciel's voice was growing rasp. A deep scowl was planted on his face, and I knew he wasn't going to make getting him dressed easy. He sat stiff at the edge of the bed, glaring more intensely than I had ever seen him. I could smell it, all the anger and fear and regret. Should I pity him now? I was still bristling at him, irked that he could act in such a manor. I hadn't thought my young Master capable of regressing so far yet again. But I was proven wrong once more, because as I reached over to start unbuttoning his nightshirt, he leaned away from me. He grunted and wouldn't let me touch him. So I sighed. I had had enough of his games.

"Do you think you can impede this visit, young Master?" I made another reach for him but he lurched away yet again. "Because you are wrong." I didn't reach for him again. I looked at him tersely, but did not move. I watched the ire in his blue eye, how neither it or the other could look me in the face. Ciel avoided my gaze at all cost, starting to swing his foot into the baseboard of his bed.

_Thunk._

_ Thunk._

_ Thunk._

I sighed. "Young Master."

Ciel did not turn. He laid back onto the bed, continuing to kick it. "I _can't_." He was speaking softly, but I felt another tantrum within him. _Thunk_.

"You don't have a choice." Ciel's expression only darkened. He was barely listening. _Thunk_. "In fact," I continued, leaving out any amusement in my voice. "You've never had a choice." Still no response. "You haven't been making any choices since Lady Elizabeth went missing." _Thunk_. "You haven't done anything at all, except lay in this bed and be extremely taxing on my nerves." _Thunk_. "Months. It's been months. It's time to stop acting so selfishly." But he wasn't listening. Ciel had turned away from me.

"It doesn't matter anymore." Guilt. That guilt I had thought he had finally left behind. The boy had been saying it many times during his mourning, but now…now I didn't understand it. In fact, in some irrational part of me, it made me very, very angry. I was not going to put up with more months of a clingy, blubbering contractee. I have to admit that it was endearing at first, but Ciel would fall fast and hard and it was painful to watch. I didn't want him to fall apart again. I was not the one who could put him back together, but if I could just keep him together long enough to complete the contract…. It was all I could ask for. It was all I really wanted. All I craved for. _Thunk_.

I frowned. "That's absurd."

"No it's not!"

_Thunk_.

"It is. You're running away again."

"I am not." I could hear his pout.

"You are. Just like before. You can't run away like a coward."

"I'm not a coward!"

"Then why are you hiding in your bed?" I smirked. He had trapped himself already.

_Thunk_.

Ciel didn't seem ready to respond. Or able. I wasn't sure. "You're afraid." His shoulders stiffened, but he didn't object. "You're running away from your emotions with more, childish emotions," I mused. "You're so afraid of facing your failures that you run and hide from them. My Lord, what good does that do you? You know, don't you?" Ciel was still silent. _Thunk_. I answered for him. "None. It does you no good." Yet I couldn't spur him. His silence was grinding against my nerves. I lowered my voice. I would threaten him if I had to. "You're being outrageously unreasonable," I said, taking a step closer to the bed, making sure I avoided his flying foot. _Thunk_. "You're acting like a frightened child, not the head of the Phantomhive family, and it's _very_ unappealing."

_Thunk_.

That noise. I was sick of it. I grabbed his thigh, my hand wrapping around the muscle in a tight enough grip for Ciel to jump. But I wasn't going to let him go. I would bruise him if I had to. His thigh quivered in my grasp as I leaned over the boy, impeding his incessant kicking and grabbing his jaw with my other hand. He _would_ look at me. "Young Master," I said low, threatening. "There is something you need to understand." I turned his face towards me, catching the full scent of shock and edging fear from him. But he looked at me like I wanted, regardless of if his eyes were wide and almost watering. He looked about to cry. Still, I wasn't going to release him yet.

"You are a _coward_ if you let yourself be taken with your emotions like this, and you are a _selfish_ coward if you keep trying to run away from your duties. I have had to put up with you for _years_ now, and I understand that you do not _want_ to face the fact that you have _failed_ Lady Elizabeth, but you cannot let that stop you. You _owe_ Lady Elizabeth more than just wallowing in your own self pity. You are letting your _emotions_ control you, and if you let them stop you," I paused, gripping his thigh tighter as the expression on his face changed. He was getting angry. There were still tears in his eyes, but he had narrowed them since I held him in a way so that he could not speak. "If you let these frivolous emotions stop you," I continued, leaning closer. "Then you have no use for me, nor I you. If this is how you want to be, just a helpless boy, no better at taking care of himself than a mere babe, unable to make the simplest of decisions, unable to _sleep_ without being coddled and flattered, then there is no use for a contract between us." For a moment, I felt that this was a very bad idea. But it was too late. I backed away, lessening my grip on him. "I am not your nanny, young Master. And thus I cannot stay in a contract forever to do so." I scowled. "You called to _me_, and I answered, as I will continue to do unless you continue to act like a inept newborn." And I released him, took a step back, waited. _Thunk_. "What will you do, my Lord?"

Ciel sat up. He was bristling, but I also noticed him stealing himself. His hand wandered to his thigh. I wondered if I had hurt him. But he looked at me, sternly and said "I want to get dressed."

I smiled then, I bowed, I started to unbutton his shirt. "That is a good choice, my Lord." Yet he didn't speak. He didn't look at me again, only chewed at his bottom lip - with the lightest touch - and avoided me. I could see he was holding back tears, the faint shaking of his body a tell-tale sign. I hadn't meant to make him cry, but maybe it was something he needed to do. I didn't want him angry with me, though I knew if Ciel really had a problem with what I said, he would have said it already. Still, I aimed to comfort him. "It's alright," I said as I began removing his shirt. "If you want to cry."

"I'm not going to cry," he said in a half-whimper. I pretended to ignore the tears that started to run down his cheeks.

"Of course not, my Lord." He didn't wipe them away, not even as I adjusted his new shirt and started to button it up. I was sliding on his pants, noticing a dark ring beginning to form under the skin where I had grabbed him, when he finally decided to wipe his face. He put both hands up and rubbed, covering his face with the palms of his hands.

"I'm not a coward."

I smiled. "Of course not," I agreed, making sure to avoid his more sensitive areas as I adjusted his pants.

"And I'm not running away."

"Not at the moment," I grinned mischievously. Though, he didn't see it. That was fine, I knew he had heard it. I helped him put on his shoes and vest, then stood. Ciel looked up at me, all traces of his tears gone. He looked almost confident, but very haggard for a child.

"No, never. I'm done running." He balled his fists, a feeling of resolve seeping between us. "I have to face this, as the head and last heir to the Phantomhive name, this is my duty." He nodded to himself, but I could sense he was unsure. I helped him put on his coat and eyepatch, smiling, and followed him out of the bedroom.

Like I had expected, we were the last to make our way to the carriage, Ciel unbothered as usual. No one asked why, the rather dejected look on my young Master's face surely the answer. And the carriage ride was silent. Completely. Everyone was uneasy except for myself, which made for a even more tedious ride to London than I was ready to admit. I was very pleased when we rode past the outskirts, passing the townhouse and making a quick stop to the florist. The flowers I had ordered were ready as promised, and I paid the man as I said I would, who happenstance stuttered even more so in person than on the telephone. Regardless, the cemetery was the next stop. Ciel did not comment on the flowers. Still, he had not spoken at all. And I had expected another show when it was time to get out of the carriage, but he was silent, solemn almost, and made his way independently to the grave. Somehow, maybe a child's intuition, he knew exactly where it was. I followed slowly. What, exactly, would my young Master do?

* * *

><p><em>AN: For the love of all things holy, I need to thank Aservis Roturier IMMENSELY for helping me through this chapter. There are not enough amounts of thanks I can give for the help you gave me! Also, everyone, sorry for the wait. I'm awful I know, but please don't stone me, because this story is not finished yet!_


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